


Willful Affections

by charcoal_samurai



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Abuse of bedding, And then plot happens, Bells, Cunnilingus, Dog Whistle, F/M, Femdom, Inappropriate field dressing, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, References to Knotting, Resisting Instincts, Scenting, Shameless Smut, maybe a little shame, okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-03-13 11:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 26,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3380555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoal_samurai/pseuds/charcoal_samurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of almost interconnecting scenes that give a better glimpse into the dynamic between Jupiter and Caine.  As well as random staples feeding into the relationship eventually. Here be porn. But that's not everything you'll find.</p><p>NEWEST: Chapter 25: 48 hour smut preview.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stinger is sent to Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody seems to have addressed what it must have been like for Caine and Stinger and Kiza after the court martial. 
> 
> Yeah, the during, in all it's brutal horror and twisted honor and regrets.
> 
> I mean, after that. The loss, of everything they've known. Of more than just the pieces of themselves. Of trying to pull it back together to put one foot in front of the other and carry on.
> 
> How did they get from that awful, rending moment to the start of Jupiter's story? 
> 
> This is just a small piece of me trying to see what must have happened in between.

He's dumped, bleeding, into a field of wildflowers. The Marshal for the planet is nowhere in sight.

Scanning over the rippling golden grains, clusters of color, searing whites and deep violets cresting with each roiling wave to break against his knees. 

Nothing on the horizon but the single yellow sun slowly tracking through the sky, the fist in his chest echoed by the tightening flesh around the swelling badges of fresh dishonor. 

He still can't balance well.

It's too soon, there's been no shift in his center of gravity, the added burden of adjusting to the new world's version as well, only frustrating him further with each stumble. 

He refuses to think of blonde locks and pouting distemper with each poorly coordinated movement. The flash of Kiza's first tentative steps merging with Caine's first fierce wing beats. Both so determined to conquer the new landscape, his eyes burn with the knowledge he may never see them again.

When he trips on something in the tall grass the wings that aren't there flex to catch him. The pain of torn grafts and splintered nerves tearing through him with the shift, overbalancing in the worst direction to land on the wounds.

By the time he wakes it's full dark on the foreign world. Dizzy and feverish, some combination of realization and mounting infection, forcing him back to his feet. He takes barely three steps before he's retching everything he's ever eaten into the dirt. 

The noise must wake some strange predator on the backwater. Lights flicker in the distance before spearing in his direction. He tries not to think about bioluminescent land predators he's encountered in the past, thickly armored plates and venomous spines a common theme, the part of his brain dedicated to survival pushing him to fly for a better vantage to see what's coming. Vision swimming when the instinct forces a spasm through his ravaged frame at the attempt. 

Stinger closes his eyes against the coming glow, steadies himself and spreads arms wide to embrace the fate crashing through the brush to reach him. Praying to whatever diety watches over poor defective splices to end it quickly, or barring speed, give him the chance to see his family again in the moments before the void. 

Something smaller than expected knocks into his chest, bringing him to his knees. Hot wet slashing at his throat before he registers the absence of pain. Deeply thankful for the answered prayer he dares to look at the creature mauling his back with sharp claws.

Kiza's hair clings to his cheek as she runs trembling fingers over the freshly blooming wounds. The synaptic implants picking up the heat from her skin even as she hovers over the broken filaments. It feels like a brand slicing through the membrane. 

Pain jolting him to action as he tears himself away, a sob choking in his throat as he sees the tears streaming down her face. Rasping her name in a voice near mute from screaming only sends her to a fresh wave of weeping.

She's tugging him to his feet, nearly dragging him behind her before he crashes against her to land on all fours. Taking his hands, walking backwards, guiding him with each stuttering step, every wobbling pull that hisses breath from torn lips, twisting grimaces at the drunken weave the pain enforces as he relearn his own body. 

The morning light gilding the ramshackle hovel, all bleached wood and missing shingles. It takes hours to finish what should have been a thirty minute trek. By the time they reach their new doorstep he's learned the full extent of their new fate.

He was not intended to meet the Marshal but _be_ it. The expected acceptance of the role the only reason Kiza was permitted to join him in his exile and not snapped up the Legion or auctioned off to repay the debt of his training. 

Small mercies.

It takes six months for the fissures in his back to fully close. By then he knows the true nature of his hell. Kiza's gentle coughs deepening with each pass of the new seasons. Each new triumph, the house, the bees, the newly redefined normal, the _freedom_ etched out in his daughter's lungs.

He will live _just_ long enough to watch her die.

And only just.


	2. Suicide Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jupiter Jones is _not_ the first Recurrence in the 'Verse.

It would not be incorrect to call them gods.

In the greatest of pantheons the Abrasax family are revered as the creators of life and it's destroyers. Only they had the power to grant immortality to those who earned their favor. And their favors went only to the highest bidder, one drop at a time. Content to wax poetic on their pedestals, wash their hands of the blood and bones. Bathing in it just the same.

The House of Abiteth indulged in no such luxuries. Reaping for their greater gods in exchange for stealing fire from the mortals. Amusing the masses amongst the stars with the shadows sparked by the light of lost genius. They were not so foolish to think the only thing of value the younger worlds possessed were their lives.

 

Seraphi is displeased to discover Titus has once again failed to do his duty. By allowing the Abiteth to cultivate his garden he has forgotten that the Abrasax are intrinsically farmers. Their goal, always, to provide a superior product, cultivated to germinate quickly, and always to capacity for maximum yield. It seemed he would have to learn a lesson. Never let the crows tend the fields.

The lurid yellow marble should be toxic by now, yet, due to his delay, the planet's people have once again avoided extinction with a technological miracle. Recoding themselves to breath the noxious fumes. The survival rate less than one in ten, but deemed acceptable considering the alternative. The projected yield expected to be well below cost and highly suspect. Their understanding of genetics comparatively crude.

She makes it clear this will be a part of his inheritance.

The Harvest begins within the hour.

 

The Abiteth salvage as best they can, but the damage is done. The ReGen-Ex is so unstable it is kept only in case of ransom. And even then, there is not enough. Quick coders are soon available for market. She seethes with the fury of where it came from.

In a duel between an arrow and a gun the gun will win. If the arrow is laced with _poison_ , well, it's never too late to learn new tricks.

Desperation makes way for some marvelous inventions. While she may own the crops and the land, she does not herself till the soil. Who knows how many jewels she's missed this way?

Titus is too content to being coddled, too used to dripping venom but never truly having felt it's sting. Kalique too accustomed to appearances to bear the scorn of a lesser house for long.  
It is in Balem's devotion and keen mind she finds a match. Appealing to his business sense as she confides her concerns.

He will wed the heir of the Abiteth, and in doing so, enfold the Harvests into their purview. No more will their dividends be stolen out from under their grasp.

She sees to it the proper motions are made, the dowries set accordingly. Seeding the smallest of her worlds to tempt the prospective bride. The Abiteth returns with a custom ship for each sibling and the promise of the only the finest in redress to match the yield when due. The marriage contracts begin.

 

The day Seraphi dies is the day Amara Abiteth begins sequencing a squad of lycantants, claiming a need for unquestioning loyalty after the gruesome scene the queen is found in.

Balem, in his guilt, pays for them himself. She finds a strange satisfaction in this as she codes his genome to be specifically provocative to the breed. Designed to be flawed in ways she can recognize at a glance but not so deeply she cannot scatter them amongst her holdings.

She bides her time, nearly three hundred years, to see her pets be born. Sequenced but not pursued until petty squabbling with his siblings distracts Balem's precision from her.

It is still not enough. The resultant pack turns feral at the first whiff. He is not even residing on the ship when the massacre occurs. The inquiry halts all proceedings as he claims attempted assassination and begins to sever ties.

The runt she refused slips through the cracks. Amara is pleased beyond all reason when the male returns, maiming her future husband. She codes Balem's bath to set the damage as permanent. Branding it to his genome, but not enough to let him die.

 

 

The case against her is dismissed and the courtship resumes.

She cares little for the loss of her first pieces, the goal to sweep the field. If Balem were to fall now, Kalique and Titus would survive him. That is an unacceptable alternative. She may have checked the king but he wins the round on points. Without the signet on her skin or a true heir to his will, this attempt seems foolishly overeager. It's easy to blame Titus.

A paltry ten years pass before the unthinkable happens again, only this time, it's not in her favor. Seraphi Abrasax' Recurrence has returned to claim her title and Balem does not survive the attempt to correct the oversight.

Her blank finger mocks her.

She must move quickly. If the Recurrence acknowledges the marriage contracts and thus, their intent, she will not lose everything. It gives her a deep satisfaction to see the runt again. In reward for services rendered, she learns his name.

Caine Wise is not the vengeance she would have chosen, but it seems he'll do.

 

Jupiter Jones is _not_ the first recurrence in the Verse.

Eres Changra is found amongst the ruins of her world. Filthy from the dross of her own refinement. Dipped and scrubbed in the glimmering remains of her people she is presented to the House of Abiteth. The heirs apologize for their oversight in not scanning for her quicker. She sees her sister in the face of the one who dares to call her kin.

By the time the screaming stops Amara nee Eres is in need of another bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now that's a thing...
> 
> Needed a new player to force Jupiter back in the game.
> 
> Really need some feedback if this is worth pursuing.


	3. Miss me? (Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone loves a good homecoming. Jupiter is happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm not sorry.

Kiza was unconcerned with the long and unexpected absence of her father. It was common for him to be called away, for this or that, with little warning. The two week training time was a touch extreme on such short notice (none really) but the girl seemed nonplussed.

Taking her cue, downplaying her own distress at the absence, Jupiter traded numbers with the younger girl and checked in periodically throughout the day.

Unsurprised when the third day passed with Kiza pleasantly abuzz about her business, happily engrossed in her own world. By day eight the texts were much more frequent and the previously quickly ended calls were steadily becoming much more involved.

Telling her mother she was going to spend time with Kiza earned her a few days reprieve from her family's enthusiastic interrogations into her newly complicated life.

She arrived at the farmhouse with full girls night regalia. (Minus the alcohol in deference to the age of her young compatriot.) 

The chocolates and rom-coms eagerly consumed. Chinese food ordered by the sacks, at it was over an hours drive away, and, no, they wouldn't deliver.

They spent the next two days tucked in front of the couch, barely leaving each other's side in commiseration from the missing males.

Kiza proved to be a wealth of information on Caine. Young enough, before his court marshal, to remember him as a playful older brother. Quick to tumble and the first to tease her into (and out of) trouble.

Jupiter wondered at the change between the male Kiza spoke of so fondly and the one she was growing so deeply attached to.

It wasn't until Kiza's stories blended together that she finally clues in to what the younger girl was saying without saying. They'd been his pack. His family. Stinger's defense and sacrifices making infinitely more sense in the light of the revelation. 

Wanting to bridge the gap she saw yawning between what Kiza had had before and wanted back. Unsure where to begin to fit back the pieces of something broken so long ago.

By the next morning they were both running on fumes, having talked well into the night, amusing each other with the antics of their families. 

Kiza guides Jupiter to a small bedroom off to the side of the main floor.

"It's not much, Majesty, but the bed is comfy enough. There're books on the shelf, sheaves on the desk and a small armory in the closet in case you get bored." A yawn crackled through her voice as she wandered her way back towards the stairwell. "I'm going to catch some sleep, help yourself to the kitchen. Washroom is second door to the right."

And, just like that, Kiza was gone. She had a disturbing ability to disappear from her own home, regardless of the situation. Jupiter tried to take it as a compliment that the girl trusted her alone with the weaponry.

She scanned the books before giving up pretending and rummaging through the thickly layered stacks of sheaves perched precariously on the overburdened desk in the corner. All seemed to be field reports or dusty lesson plans for children, like the one Stinger had tried to show her of Earth's true history before it had fried itself to bits.

Tucking a still glossy Ascending For Idiots guide to her chest (Yes, she could read between the lines.) she settled back against the pillows over the quilt. Falling asleep to dim fanfare and the soothing voice chronicalling each chapter as it cycled through.

 

She's dreaming of her wedding dress. 

All shimmering white crystals and dripping red flowers, made from gems the size of which she's never seen before. 

It's weight trapping her in place, in memories she can't shake as Titus speaks. His pretty minion's smile showing far too many wickedly curved teeth. She repeats the words by rote, frissons of fear ripping through her chest. Knowing the moment she has touched the sheave she'll have married the charming devil and he'll kill her. 

It isn't until her hand snaps still, pulling against the restraint that she notices the addition to the nightmare.

A leash lashes tight to her wrist, preventing her from reaching out those last few inches to seal the ring into her flesh.

It's Caine. Crouching, naked, at her feet save for a wide collar filigreed with dark swirls and jagged constellations that tumble in strange patterns as he holds his ground. 

His wings arching over his back, high and menacing, like a gargoyle warding off demons from the castle walls. His glare pinned to the shrinking Titus, his entourage vanishing like smoke.

The rough whisper slipping through the crown of her hair before curling heat against the shell of her ear.

"May I kill him?"

In her dream, she answers differently. Safe from the moral complications of her vengeance, she closes her eyes to the world her mind won't let her escape.

Caine creeps closer. His weight a solid presence against her thigh as he leans into the skirts. 

He snuffles against her hip and she wishes she could feel him through the layers. His large hands rending the fabric to pieces, as though her thought a command to eagerly obey.

She's free to move with the loss of the poisonous silks, stroking his head as he nuzzles the soft skin of her stomach. 

She shivers, bottoming dropping out from under her at the look on his face.

The power she holds over this fierce creature licking up her spine to curl lazily in her core. 

His eyes sharpen and flash gold, wings cresting as he rises.

He rumbles like thunder, prowling up her form in a sinuous play of muscles. The cooler stroke of his wings, wrapping around to pull her pelvis closer to brush his, shifts her closer to the heat pouring off of him in waves. 

"Just tell me what you want your Majesty."

She pants as her breasts pillow on his chest, molding to his harder form. 

She knows this is a dream when she wants to feel him and he's _there_. Her thighs wrapped tight around his hips, firm knuckles pressing to where she's growing slick and stroking her until she's gasping for each breath. 

"Just tell me what you want, Majesty." 

She can't force her tongue to form the words so she drags his mouth to hers and licks past his teeth to suck his tongue. 

Desperate to feel him, she rubs herself against the hand between her legs. Knowing it's the only thing between her and what she wants most.

His words echo in her ear even as he ravages her mouth with biting kisses and strokes her tongue with his.

She pants his name into his mouth. Rewarded by the blunt tip of his cock as he stretches her opening.

Seeping slick around the heavy drag, lips burn and pull from the thickness of him. The ache within clenching at the promise of being filled so completely.

Writhing herself farther on his shaft, heels digging into his flanks, fruitlessly trying to pull him deeper. 

Those damn words circling her brain.

She shoves him back. Straddling his hips and sinking down to take every inch inside her. Mindless to the hands steadying her hips until they rise to knead her breasts. She's panting, overfull. Teetering on the edge of release already as her body slicks with sweat. 

"Just tell me what you want, Majesty."

His rough whisper finally breaks her as she feels his stubble rasp her cheek. He's beneath her, deeply imbedded, and behind her whispering, goading her to take what she wants. To say the words so he can let her finish.

Hips churning when he fucks her hard as she finally screams his name.

 

It's the knock to the door that wakes her.

Not the sweeping orgasm trembling through her thighs. The last few aftershocks and lazy flutters pooling her come on the pillow she'd ridden in her sleep. 

It's Kiza, excited, with news of the boys returning early, offering her the first shower when Jupiter insists in helping the girl prepare the leftovers into a feast. 

Wiping sticky fingers between her still slick thighs, she takes the offer, thinking nothing of it as she leaves the pillow where it lays, before straightening the rumpled quilt she never actually manged to slip under.

 

Stinger arrives before Caine does, and it isn't until she sees the pleased surprise in his eyes that she thinks he might not have expected her to look out for his daughter. 

She waves away the gruff thanks with a smile.

Caine comes late, relieved to find her safe, pleased as he catches her teasing Stinger with insight gained from Kiza's stories. Loading plates with rewarmed Chinese, and turning to bop his nose with an egg roll. 

Kiza lingers at his side outside the kitchen, freshly scrubbed and damp.

"She's pretty alright for an Entitled, innit she?"

"She stayed with you?"

Kiza swatted his shoulder.

"Old enough not to need a sitter. She kept an eye out for me. Came by and stayed before I got too lonely."

He tried very hard not to read too much into the Queen caring for his mending pack. 

Kiza stowing his gear in the back bedroom obvious to all as he joined the others at the table, swapping stories as they enjoyed their dinner. 

 

The blare of Jupiter's phone the only thing holding him back from pursuing this new development as they took care of the dishes.

Her mumbled curse as she turned back at the end of the call his cue to shelve it for later. 

"I'm so sorry, I know you just got back but I need to go home."

 

He'd have flown her himself if she hadn't driven her aunt's car, so he lingered at the door, stealing kisses as she said her goodbyes.

He'd been watching the dust settle from her trail when Stinger settled against the rail beside him.

"You're serious about her then?"

"Not gonna be easy but," he shrugged broad shoulders. Shooting for something negligent, the quick twist of anxious wings giving him away.

Stinger clapped his back once, gruffly encompassing his home with the other hand in a vague wave.

"It's not much, but if you're going to woo royalty you'll need a base of operations. Stay here." The _with us_ went unspoken.

Caine ducked his head, pleased to have back this small piece of what he'd lost. Accepting the offer for what it was, he headed back to the spare, now his, bedroom. 

The moment he opened the door he choked. 

Mouth watering as he stared at the bed in shock, the pillow taunting him with it's still glossy sheen.


	4. Flavor of the Month Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curtis had done this route for 12 years, rain or shine, snow and sleet.

Curtis had done this route for 12 years, rain or shine, snow and sleet.

The Apini house had been a source of interest ever since they'd first moved in.

Really, bee keepers in Chicago weren't that uncommon, ones with honeycomb growing out of their _house_ was something that happened but wasn't exactly encouraged, but, the kicker was when the man of the house would dance in strangely precise patterns every spring.

Weird.

Not as strange as their latest houseguest. He looked like a beefed up Billy Idol with steampunk sensibilities and had no compunctions trailing after the mail car as it wound it's way back to the main road. They never really got much mail, both of them in dying industries and all, but it happened enough to break him out in a cold sweat, just knowing the glowering behemoth would be there.

It wasn't just the posture that tilted more towards hostile every time he had to dig in his bag with shaking hands for slippery envelopes, it was the intense focus and rapid-fire inhales, just like a dog snuffling a stranger would, if unsure of their intent.

He stills before the turnoff to the Apini house, sorting out the appropriate mail and reaching in the back for the unofficial grab bag for aggressive dogs. He palmed the pepper spray and hesitates before grabbing a strip of the teriyaki flavored jerky.

This time, there's an actual handoff. Curtis snaps the jerky in half, stuffing his portion in his mouth and handing the rest over with the bills. 

Curtis holds his breath at the considering look he's given, trying not to push the little button on the spray in the hand behind his back before he has to. The guy actually watches the move like he can see straight through him, breaking out the cold sweat again, before letting out a huff and popping the morsel in his mouth to chew. The surprised look at the flavor reads easily enough, the extended hand would be suspicious if it wasn't for the smile attached.

"What was that?"

"Jerky? It's uh, teriyaki flavor. You liked it?" The slow nod he gets is the first in he's seen and he happily grabs it with both hands.

"Well, alright then." Curtis shuffles back to his mail truck, almost expecting to feel the glare spear him again, relieved when it never comes.

The new routine puts a serious dent in his doggie bag. He even splurges on the flavors a bit, tossing in some peppered and mesquite, just to keep things interesting, the slowly earned camaraderie well worth the investment.

The blonde giggling in the window at the exchange is just a bonus as she chatters happily to someone on the phone.


	5. Mother Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jupiter jokes with Kiza at her next call on how Caine is "such a dog" upon learning he's been stalking the mailman at Stinger's house.  
> Vladie overhears and spills the beans, her family misinterprets.
> 
> Aleksa has something to say about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Jupiter's mother has a heavy Russian accent. Just couldn't make it stick without detracting from the message.

Aleksa corners her daughter after dinner, stacking plates in her arms and steering her away to the kitchen. The rest of the family shuffling quietly as Jupiter once again makes excuses why The Boyfriend can't come pick her up from home.

Dumping the dishes in the sink for later, she motion to have Jupiter stay, turning to fetch a small pouch from her purse. Aleksa pours a silvery chain with a metal tube at the end into her palm. Motioning for her daughter to turn so she might clasp the necklace for her. Brushing glossy hair over one shoulder, she draped it over Jupiter's neck, tucking the small whistle under the end of her shirt. Stroking her daughter's sable hair and sighing before tapping the new adornment and turning her to speak.

"I know this is not the life you've wanted Jupiter. It's not the life I wanted for you. Your Father and I, well, we had such plans for us..." She struggled to voice the words, fresh agony on her face before it smoothed and she cupping Jupiter's cheeks, searching her eyes to carefully gauge her expression. 

"This Boy is good for you? Then you will bring him here. No more hiding him from the family. You may not be proud of what you do, but be proud of who you are. He should love you for that, sweet girl, love you for your heart. Nothing else." And here she released her steady gaze and tremulous voice, clearing her throat once before tapping the chain again.

"Just remember, Jupiter, the only dogs worth keeping are the ones who come when called."


	6. Aww, Honey Honey (Smut to Be)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Fic, Sugar Sugar by the Archies,
> 
> I need serious help and can't believe I didn't think of it sooner.
> 
>  
> 
> Sugar, ah honey honey  
> You are my candy girl  
> And you got me wanting you.
> 
> Honey, ah sugar sugar  
> You are my candy girl  
> And you've got me wanting you
> 
> I just can't believe the loveliness of loving you  
> (I just can't believe it's true)  
> I just can't believe the one to love this feeling to.  
> (I just can't believe it's true)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not complete, yet, working on the appropriate level of feelz.
> 
> And, orgasms, maybe. (oh, who am I kidding, naked wet werewolf channing tatum, yes please!)

Caine has finally found an acceptably warm setting on the primitive bathing unit of the Apini house when Jupiter comes crashing through the door.

She's dripping honey on the floor in ropes and looking thunderous. Feet squelching as she strips and shoves him farther back to step under the spray.

"Jupiter, what-"

She scrubs viciously at her face and pins him with a glare, dark lashes clumped to spikes ringing her snapping eyes .

" _No._ I'm _**nowhere**_ near ready to talk about it."

He shifts, unsure how to proceed. He's half naked, his boots and pistol resting on the closed lid of the toilet, belt half off and still in his hands. He flexes his fingers and sees the fine whisps of sweetness glimmering, barely there across his knuckles where she brushed against him as she'd stripped to her underwear and clambered in.

The floor getting tacky as the steam pools the honey from her clothes and into the tile. Frowning, he turns to scoop them into the sink to rinse.

His wing pulling against the dividing curtain, sticking to the pale handprint streaking downward as it melts. 

That's going to be difficult to clean.

He keeps turning to sop up the mess but only succeeds in smearing himself, and everything else, in an ultra fine layer.

Giving up, he shoves a towel under the door to keep out the bees. Not relishing the prospect of picking the delicate and prickly creatures out of the stuff.

Jupiter peeks out from the curtain to find him still there, looking glossed and agitated. His massive shoulders twitching sharply to unstick the feathers plastered to his back. She had the grace to look sheepish as she tugs the sheet to the side to invite him in.

The steam rolling out from the opening making the decision easy. Eyes stinging from the trickling glue and nose stuffed with the cloying sweetness, he stepped in behind her pants and all.

Helpfully angling the nozzle for his greater height she tucked hands around his chest and awkwardly shuffled them into switching places.

She'd always thought having Caine half naked and drizzled with sweets would have been somewhere around the tenth date, maybe as a reward for good behavior (his or hers, either worked) and, really, she was thinking caramel. 

She still wasn't clear if he was allergic to chocolate, it had yet to come up but the only time she'd tried to ask directly the words tripping out of her mouth must have sounded like the worlds (second) worst come on. _So, uh, how far does this whole dog thing go?_ She was pretty sure she still held the title for the first as well, _I love dogs, I've always loved dogs._ Jeezus, why did she think she could actually talk to the pretty wolf boy and think it would end in any other way than him blinking like his translator just tazed him and walking away. 

It'd been three weeks and the closest she'd come to getting him fully naked was hijacking his shower, and the man still wore his PANTS for christssakes.

He'd been shifting under the spray trying to soak and soap his feathers when he bumped into her again. She flushed guiltily and reached across him for the body wash tucked into corner of the bath.

Gold eyes opened to watch her carefully, trying to interpret the proper response, staring resolutely at her face as she lathered her hands and brandished them towards his still sticky chest.

Trying for lightness she offered an almost steady "You wash my back, I'll wash yours?"

His posture growing immediately stiff as he rolled his shoulders back and braced his arms. A form of parade rest he defaulted to whenever she did something too far fetched from his expectations of the her royal pedigree.

"Hey, it's my fault you're in this mess. Might as well let me help you out." He frowned, considering. 

"It'll make me feel better if I do, it doesn't have to mean anything else."

He ducked his head and furled a wingtip between them, scooping a fingerful of foam from her hand and working it gently through the feathers. Showing her the best way to cleans the barbs and quills as well before turning and presenting her his back.

When she pressed a sudsy palm to his nape to scrub a few stray smears away, he easily slides to his knees before her at the light touch. Something low and sweet rushed through her at the deference he showed in every gesture. 

He braced his hands on the lip of the tub for balance and fanned the wings up in the small space. Jupiter shivered at the glancing caress and got to work.


	7. Your Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's tired of him explaining why he's so different from her.
> 
> So she tells him why, to her, he's so different from everybody else.

He'd tried, again, to explain the differences between them. 

She cuts him off.

"It's just Jupiter. Jupiter Jones. And Caine Wise."

"And yet, Your Majesty _is_ queen, and enjoys it when I call her such."

Jupiter makes a dismissive fluttering motion with her hand, unsure where to begin.

"When they say it, it doesn't mean anything. To me."

Caine shifts and she rounds on him, eyes intent and almost solemn.

"Yeah, they say it because they think it's true, they think they should, they're looking at my genetics and nothing else. Like that's enough, the good, the bad, the _person_ in them doesn't matter. They don't look any further."

Aware he's watching closely, she shifts off to look away, unsure how to prove her point. How to show him he's any different than they were, _are_ , in words he'll understand.

"Seraphi Abrasax was a queen and I might match her, but I'm not her. I'm not those bitches mother. I've never ruled the universe and I bet she never scrubbed a toilet in her life. They call me queen because she was and they think I'm her, or close enough to count...But when you say it... it's like even if Seraphi Abrasax never existed, if I was the first of the first with my genetics... When _you_ say your majesty, you mean it for me. Not the echo of who I'm supposed to be. And, honestly?"

She turns back to cup his jaw, letting him search her eyes and hold his breath. Settling that much deeper in her presence, until he blinks slowly, catlike, at once encouraging and curious.

"I'd rather be **_your_** queen than queen of the universe... You actually seem like you mean it."


	8. Welcome Relief (Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She's a heavy handed flirt. But that's okay, she could be as subtle as a sledge hammer and still have him try to ignore it.  
> Caine is aware she is young, and doesn't fully understand what it means, the differences between them.  
> Trying to hide the truth of his affections from her ends in unexpected ways.

Wind chapped cheeks stung as Jupiter's hair whipped her face at the last dive before Caine's building. His swift grin her only warning before he tucked his wings and spun, stealing her trophy from their date in the moment before she could process the shock of his smile.

The final dizzying spiral around Willis tower had Caine the victor, pulling her through the shimmering portal to the finish line of his spartan den. Laughing at the satisfaction clear in the set of his shoulders as he settled the overfull sack of fast food on the lone chair before cleaning off his table.

"Yeah, yeah, you rock the wings. It's just hard to find time to practice with the boots if we're not at Stinger's." 

She shrugged at his glance, confirming she hadn't found the time in the shuffling of stiff limbs. He settled the food on the cleared surface and watched her gait. Noticing the hitch in stride as she settled on his bed with a huff and stretch. He snagged the milkshake she'd smuggled in and sauntered to her, pressing the dock to tuck his wings against his skin. 

"Sore?" 

He was hard pressed to ignore her groaned agreement as she turned to sprawl face-down into his bedding. Harder still to ignore her surripticiously sniffing out his scent from the fluff. Sometimes it was easy to forget she wasn't a lycantent, instinctually seeking out comfort without words.

"Between carting about half my weight in cleaning supplies home to restock the family stash and lugging that new mattress set to Stinger's, I'm not sure which muscles hurt worse. When are you moving in again?"

Fingers curled into fists at his side, debating the improper urge to massage away her aches. Every shift filling the air with the stale musk of his sleep and saturation his sheet with her light sweat and the dizzying scent of physical relief when she popped half her spine with a slow arch. The pleased mmph and gasp not helping his situation. When she tucked a knee to her chest and splayed the other thigh wide to pop the rest (as Stinger had shown her) with no results, he was moved to act. 

Unable to watch her splayed from the angle that gave him such access to scent what he'd almost tasted days before. Hoping to distract them both from the frustrated unfs she huffed out when rolling her hips and arching harder didn't help. It didn't matter that she wasn't aroused, she was practically humping his pillow and the scent of _her_ wouldn't fade for days.

"Soon. You need more pressure to do what you're trying... And you don't quite have the form right for the upper half either."

"Ugh, that probably explains why my neck is cricking at night."

"Cricking, Majesty?"

"Too tight in one direction, So that moving it is painful."

He nodded his understanding, extending a hand to help her up, hoping to show her the proper technique for her musculature when she spoke.

"Can you fix it?" 

Her tentative query barely audible as she turned to watch his outline over her shoulder. Ignoring, for now, his proffered palm. 

"Yes, Majesty."

A pleased grin and quick turn had him startled as she spun to her knees, placing him at her back, bracing hands on the exposed beams at his bedside. 

Her nearly oblivious "This work for you?" hitting him low, as she still straddled his pillow. It didn't bode well for his resolve that he was getting jealous of the thing.

"It's uh, not exactly what I had in mind. Is that normal for terrans?" He gestured vaguely to her clasp on the supports, confused as to how much pressure she thought to expect from him.

Her soft "oh" had him recalculating as she dropped her hands to tug her shirt up and over in a smooth movement and plopping it, again, on the stuffing.

Blinking at the increase in scent and skin, he instinctively snatched the pillow between her legs and flung it through the window, forgetting for a moment the open portal still within it. Thankful when her shirt stayed closer to the bedside than the exterior of the building when she smirked at him but said nothing. 

The smooth expanse of her back exposed save for the black band and thin straps of her bra. She shivered slightly at the cold and dropped down again to his sheets, seeking warmth. He stepped closer, thinking quickly, rationalizing his way to straddle her knees with his. His greater height still providing the reach required to answer her request, yet far enough removed from temptation. He hoped.

Awareness prickling her skin before calloused hands pressed firm on her shoulders. Shifting them square and palming the back of her neck to align the vertebrae the way he wanted.

Sighing at the warmth seeping through as he shuffled her into position. Holding her breath when he tucked her hair over one side, skimming her ears and freezing. Subtly tracing the arc before retreating. Jupiter tried to hold still as his heat scorched her from knees to the nape of her neck. 

Blinking sleepily into the firm pad beneath her as he worked over tense muscles. Sussing out aches she'd had long enough to forget their existence until the pressure released and left her feeling boneless. Soothed as much by the pervading warmth as the span of his hands over her ribcage, stroking down the sides and back. Searching for more tender tissue. 

He palmed the back of her head and pulled the flesh in a firm stroke from nape to tailbone. Humming out her pleasure as it popped three more spots on her spine. He shifted higher on her legs to increase the pressure, repeating the whole circuit and melting her to a blissful puddle. Squirming when the drag on her spine dug the clasps of her bra painfully into her skin. She thought nothing of it, in her daze, as she twisted her arms back to unhook the clasp, slipping it off her shoulders and away. Caine's sudden focus on her hips unnoticed as he still pulled relief from overstrained muscles.

Her low groan at the successful clench zipped up his spine. Eyes closed to better focus his other senses he ran the circuit again. Her sleepy acquiescence tantalizing this close, warm flesh beckoning with the sweet smell of honey as he shuffled closer. The swell of her ass brushing his pelvis brought him up short. 

Ignoring it to work her ribs, hoping to finish quickly. Accidentally stoking soft curves, where there had been molded cups before, snapped his eyes open at her trembling gasp. 

He'd chuffed softly each time he'd shifted closer to apply more pressure and it only strengthened the happy lethargy sapping her energy, that is until he'd nearly cupped her breasts. Shifting as though to rise only had him pressed intimately between her legs. Finding herself sprawled head down, ass up, as he quickly did the long stroke of her spine. The pressure this time intense enough to make her moan, core clenching and swiftly slicked at the strength he'd only hinted at before. His low groan at the scent of her drowned out by the snap of her spine aligning at last.

He was across the room by the time she'd arched, luxuriating in the welcome relief from the strain. Her pleased hum, driving him from the room to fetch the pillow, hoping the stiff winds would cool his heated response.

Turning to see her seated on the thin mattress, struggling to take off his boots, breasts pebbling with the chill seeping through the glass brought him up short. He stepped though as she rediscovered the milkshake by the edge, sipping happily and seemingly oblivious to her partial nudity.

Her quick chuckle as he averted his face furrowed his brow.

"You do realize you've seen me wearing less than this, right?" she drawled between sips, waving the cup as though to encompass the room "The whole passing out in a paper gown, waking up in my clothes thing ringing any bells?"

He skirted around her to plop the pillow behind her. Focusing on her feet as he crouched to help remove the boots. Unclasping the latch and stroking the calf exposed, weighing his answer before releasing her foot and placing the boot to the side. 

"Things are different now, besides you were unconscious, and I kept you covered as much as I could. I don't imagine you would have enjoyed waking naked with a stranger."

Her flirty gin lost on him as he worked over the remaining boot. 

"You're right, I wouldn't have liked that, it's a good thing you aren't a stranger anymore." He choked and looked at her with bright eyes. She fairly twinkled at him in reply as she leaned forward and extended her treat.

"Wanna taste?"

He ignored the straw to kiss her, chasing the sweetness on her chilled tongue to test the flavor. 

Nerveless fingers dropped the cup to splash against his chest and her thighs. The sudden biting cold drawing a yelp from Jupiter and a disappointed grumble from him.

He tossed the sheet to mop up the spill, turning to dispose of the cup. Shedding his soaked shirt before he became sticky when he froze. Her arousal whipping across him like a flash heat. 

She'd shimmied out of her jeans and panties, blotting with the last clean corner left on the sheet, trying to salvage her clothing but only succeeding in dumping her shirt in the mix. 

"Dammit... uh, anyway I can clean this? Maybe something newfangled and alien-y?" she asked hopefully. Trying to ignore the voice in her head calling her an idiot, regardless of how much she agreed.

He didn't turn as he shook his head, wordlessly gesturing to a small pack against the far wall where she found a spare shirt that looked just large enough for his frame. He only turned after he'd heard the pack seal open and the shuffling of cloth over skin.

Jupiter watched, bemused, as the lycantant impossibly expanded as he inhaled. Eyes flashing gold before he turned and made to exit again. 

"Wait!" 

He froze.

"Is it really so awful? Seeing me like this?"

His answer was deeper, tinged with an inhuman rumble. 

"Your Majesty forgets, I'm not some human male, There are consequences you haven't considered, facts of which you are unaware..."

She crossed the room to stand behind him, seeing his awareness of her approach in the ripples across his frame. Daring to touch him next to the diamond shaped chrysalis that housed his wings. 

Unaware how sensitive the skin was until it made him turn to face her. Shivering both from the chill of the room and the heat of his eyes.

"There are only two things I need to know, Caine, and I need you to tell me the truth." 

He stilled and watched her face as she struggled to voice the questions. Electing to put some small distance between them, to preserve his flagging resolve, he chose his words carefully and prompted her.

"As you command, Your Majesty." 

Her eyes flashed, scent thickening, and he knew he'd made a mistake. Belatedly remembering the phrase 'worked for her'.

"Are we physically compatible?"

He fought the urge to bare his teeth and strangled the growl rising in his chest at the thought, nodding once in affirmative.

"Well then, Caine... Do you even want me?" He froze, the impossible before him as she but her lip and stared over his shoulder. "Because, if this is making you uncomfortable, if I'm, well, barking up the wrong tree-"

He caught her hand and tugged her closer, dipping to cleanse her mouth of the insufferably sweet cream before letting her breathe.

"Yes, Jupiter, I want you." He herded her back to the beams with quick kisses, pleased when she encouraged by carding her nails across his scalp. Pulling back as he reached his goal, hoping the cold metal would cool her ardor, let the scent fizzle out enough to stop smashing his restraint to pieces. 

"But-" 

"Nope, shut up and sit down, you're making me doubt you."

He dropped to the pad, stung. She knelt beside him, flushed and chilled.

"Did you mean it?"

He didn't even have to ask to know what she meant.

"Yes, Majesty." She brushed a kiss over his mouth and wormed herself into his arms and lap. 

Gently pushing him down to lay sprawl beneath her. Perching like a queen upon her dais as he bent his legs behind her in support. She grasped them both hands and struck a pose, imperiously arching her neck as she commanded. 

"Then stop taking it back and show me."

"Yes, Your Majesty" his whispered exhalation. More sigh than sound. >

Gliding over her skin, calloused palms course curves with only the heat of his flesh to mark where he's been. Still tentative to touch her, unsure of permission, rough fingers glide her form like his boots do the skyline. Never quite touching down but close enough to leave glittering thermals in the wake of his passing. 

He's cautious enough she'd almost doubt his interest, if not for the thick brand of his cock and the hard jut of hips between buring thighs stretched wide to hold him. Jupiter opened her eyes, head lolling forward to look at him beneath dark lashes. Nails leaving crescent wounds on his bent knees to support the stretch of her arched form.The sweat on his brow looks like victory, the helpless hitching thrusts against her core at the move just a hint of what he could offer.

His eyes track his hands before flicking to watch her face. A telling twitch of interest in fascinating places at what he finds there. She licks her lips as abs ripple beneath her, wondering what those ridged waves would feel like on her tongue. A choked whimper her reward as Caine's eyes flash, palms dipping closer to her.

"Your Majesty, please.." more rumble than words. Grunting when she digs nails in deeper, to better leverage a sinuous grind he can't ignore.

"Yes, Caine. Touch me."

Immediately his thumbs bracket her navel, warm digits spanning the soft swell of her stomach and firm rise of ribs with gentle pressure. Pleased and disappointed, Jupiter blinks down at him, trying to decide how best to proceed. The reverent strokes and his inability to do more than -look- like he wants to devour her finally getting the best of her brain to mouth filter. 

"You may be stronger, and I may be your Majesty," She mocks with a huff, "but I am -not- made of glass. I swear if you don't fucking touch me I'll bite you."

Caine blinked once in stunned silence then surged up from his prone position. Nose bumping hers gently as he breathed in her air. Slightly cross-eyed from both his sudden move and flexing hips as he shifted her weight in his lap, as much as the shivering want chasing up her spine. Grasping her hips, a single firm tug deeper to his chest and the swift change in pressure on her clit was welcome and far too distracting as he nuzzled her face to the side. 

Her whimpered shudder in his arms not unnoticed as a subtle wriggle brought friction dancing across her breasts and thighs. Delighting when his clasp proved firm enough to prevent the movement any further, finally showing his strength. A soft chuffing groan flirted with the hairs across her nape as he released her only to twist fingers in her tresses as his left arm banded across her back.

Palms skating her side, fingers catching in a ticklish tattoo as they brush flushed skin in time to the lush heat spreading as Caine trails kisses from her jaw to ear. The tender spot beneath, where her neck connects, is swanned out when he tugs on her hair and treated to the sharp scrape of wickedly sharp teeth. The soaked mewl it evokes as she scramble for purchase on his nape rewarded by a deep thrumming groan. Tracking open mouth kisses down her throat as shifting hips wet her inner thighs in blissed torment. 

Jupiter twists her fingers in his hair, feeling the prick of his canines clasp her collar bone gently. Luscious heat pooled low as he sucked a mark into the captive skin. Eyes bright as he sits back to study her, shuddering slightly at her hiss from lost contact and the quick nip to his ear tip. She isn't certain if the move was to entice or reprimand him. The look he wears as he traces the marks he's made (oh so gently, with the edges of calloused fingers) make her chuckle at the blunt possessiveness amid the more complicated emotions seething beneath the surface.

" _Your_ Majesty indeed." she hums.

Caine quirks a brow but otherwise ignores the reference in favor of her flushed skin. Unclear whether it's intentional or Caine being far too used to -being- the possession to fathom someone wanting to be _his_ anything, she kisses him. 

Licking into his mouth to distract herself from the thought. Enjoying how he jumps when she traces his teeth with her tongue. Shuddering herself as he growls into her mouth and chases her back to catch her lip. Deepening the kiss to something sinful as he thrusts his tongue to lace with hers. Tapping and tasting in ways that makes her hips jerk and grind, seeking friction. She gasps and whines when he releases her mouth at last. Nearly mindless to his odd tutting purr in reply. 

Running through his hair, gently tugging tangles as she cradles his skull and kneads vast shoulders by turns. Tipping his attention back to her neck. He lathes his way down her throat, sucking deeper marks that thrum across her skin with his pleased rumbles as the arm around her back dips to cup her ass and squeeze in time to the sweet clenching between her trembling thighs. 

_He's good at this._ she thinks muzzily, tingles chasing to crest at her nipples when Caine tugs her hair to arch her back, lips trailing to the valley between her breasts.

She pants in anticipation for endless moments, the slick ache curling tighter in her core as he breathes deep to scent her arousal, chest broadening evermore and brushing her skin in a fleeting caress. He's all hard planes and rough patches of scar tissue between stretches of warm salty velvet, and god, she wants to taste him in her mouth. Wants the sweat gleaming on his chest, to see if the spice and salt and musk and Caine will taste as good as he smells, as good as he looks. 

The low whine in the back of her throat earns her Caine's eyes. Almost fully blown now as they dilate further. A vague impression of a smile in the tick of his cheek before a slow lick to her achingly neglected nipple rushes the air from her lungs.

His gravelly, "Yes, your Majesty?" has her squirming in his lap.

The almost indignant "Touch me." barely past her lips before he nips her tip and bites oh so gently on the puckered areola before sucking deeply, tongue sweeping away the sting. 

The swift ache it gives her has her soaking him through his pants if the stuttered growl, fine shivers racking his frame and sharp uptick in pressure is anything to go on. Fingers sink into her slickness from behind, testing the wetness he finds there and going no further. Spreading his fingers wide to expose every fold and whorl to the almost coarse material of his last remaining barrier.

Desperate for some control Jupiter spears her fingers through his hair. Panting his name as she grasps his ears, steering him to her other breast as the combined sensations border too much. He locks eyes with her and spreads her lips wider, intentionally bucking his thick shaft into the hollow left exposed with shallow thrusts meant to tease.

It's too much. Too much and not enough and Jupiter doesn't know where this is going anymore, where his line is this time. And with Caine it's less a line and more a brick freakin wall. Good for him, yay gentlemen exist, sucks it took being kidnapped by Oedipus 'R Us to find one, but the perks are worth it. Well, when the perks aren't trying to kill her via sexual frustration or orgasm denial. She's reached the point she's so turned on, so _frustrated_ she's ready to cry, and she's pretty sure that would be the only thing that could make this worse so...

"That's enough, Caine."

Instantly he freezes, a flicker of fear as he tries to assess her meaning. Subtle twitches test both the placement and pressure of his touch. Releasing her nipple to better scent her for pain or distress, and finding neither. At least not in a form he comprehends. Caine holds position but other wise releases her as she rises up on her knees and farther to stand. he tries to bites back the mournful whine, only making it a quaking fragile thing. Jupiter stands tall over him, arms crossed.

"If you keep teasing me like this you're gonna kill me. All that work to save me and you're going to frustrate me into an aneurism or something..."

Caine blinked and smirked, rocking forward to grasp her thighs.

"I'm still accustomed to being beneath you" breathed into the small patch of glossy curls.

"You were." her tart reply

His silent chuckle sent sultry tingles between her legs with the shuddering exhalation. Jupiter scraped nails across his scalp to ground herself, breathing deeply to pursue the elephant in the room. 

A cupped hand pulled her right leg over his shoulder before she could think, the other arm locking her left against his chest, wrapping behind to resume it's place, smearing her juices that much closer to his lips. 

Blinking down, trembling when he simply pushed his face into her slit and groaned at her scent. Pursed lips placed a nearly chaste kiss upon her swollen folds before angling his head up to rub his chin against her hooded clit.

Jumping at the sensation of his goatee grinding softly as he spoke she missed his words completely. Startled when he moved to pull away an intelligent "wha?" slipped through.

Caine smiled gently and repeated, "Is this acceptable, your Majesty, or is it foreign on this world?"

"Please, Caine. Don't start something you won't finish."

"If it pleases your Majesty." 

Ducking his head down and licking her open in a clean sweep, she watched mesmerized as his eyes fully dilated before the swift thrust of his tongue against her opening dropped her head back with a groan as her eyes closed. Popping them open again with a gasp and buck as he rolled his tongue inside her and nosed her clit. 

Satisfied he had her attention, he swept his tongue back to her lips, delving in each fold and crevice. Licking her open as his fingers snuck away to twist her taut peaks. Chanting his name and canting her hips wider she pleaded as her taste saturated his mouth, licking his lips at how close she truly was he bared he teeth and pressed them to her pussy, snarling loudly. The vicious noise straightening her spine as the ferocious vibration echoed inside her. The instant slick reward devoured as his tongue returned, thrusting deeply and pulsing against her walls as she ground against his face. 

Shivering at the rasp of stubble burning her thighs, quaking mewls in concert to the rumbles he poured into her when she tugged his ears to where she needed him most. Breath hitching as he nuzzled her clit in tight circles. The flash heat of his exhalations churning her against his invading tongue, too much too much, but he never let up. Nose bumping the bundle of nerves in counterpoint to clenching in her core.

The slippery muscle plunging, clever tip tapping in search of the spongy spot that had her crumpling over his form. Clenching on his tongue only exaggerated the girth within her, the roughened slick texture and bone deep vibrations scattering her senses with each staccato. His left arm clamped her leg to his chest, the digits tracing the outer edges of her lips as he speared her on his tongue.

Palm kneading his neck, guiding the pressure nuzzling her clit. He stops to breathe, hot puffs of breath teasing her as he mouths her gently. The juxtaposition curling her toes as her nails stutter across the hard slopes of his spine. 

Dragging his teeth across her outer lips, tugging gently with sharps edges before dropping his slicked hand to his lap. Slurping as he glides his tongue in deep, shoving pants down just enough to wrap his hand around the seeping cock. Painting himself in her arousal, tugging in time to his ministrations on her core. Tracing his other hand up her flank, dimpling her cheek to both support her stance and force more pressure. Her hiccupping sobs swelling his knot much too soon as he clamps down on the pressure building at his base. Snarling at the pleasure pain when she cuts into his back with the first flutters of her orgasm.

He fucked her with his tongue, scraping a sharp canine across her clit as she crested, the final pleasure pain making her keen weakly as he cleaned her with slow rasps mean to make her tremble and prolonging her orgasm as the rushing of her heart filled their ears. Loosely palming his heavy shaft, trembling on the edge himself until she dropped her thigh from it's ledge and slid to his lap almost boneless. The weeping tip dragging across her sweat slick skin as she settled.

Glazed eyes searching his before a dainty hand wrapped around where he felt taught enough to break. He kept a hand locked on the base, knot pushing against his knuckles, to keep from shocking her. 

"Thank you, Caine." Softly stroking the ridge at his tip, he watched her catch her lip in her teeth. 

"You pleased me so well" here her fingers slipped between her legs, wet digits not quite able to wrap around his girth. Soothing the heated flesh with firm tugs as he swelled even more, bobbing against her stomach. 

Trailing his own wet in arcane tattoos on the subtle swell. 

He clenched his eyes, locking his jaw against the inevitable urge to bury himself and knot within her. To mark her with scent and seed and teeth... Her sudden kiss rocking him when she pushed her tongue against his teeth. Blindsided when the taste of her sweet musk and his bitter tang swirled between them. Her hum of pleasure at their taste pushing him past reason.

Three twisting strokes from her hand and he painted them both with his seed, dripping over their fingers and groaning into her mouth, all practiced seduction gone as his end thundered through him.

Her soft "oh" had him opening his eyes to watch her face. Jupiter blushed brilliantly as the last of his spend coated her thighs in thick stripes. Realizing her fascination was firmly on the still pulsing ridge in his hand, he shifted, uncomfortable, and spoke.

"I am small for my breed in all ways save one." he flexed the flesh she had yet to look away from, finding her jump strangely gratifying. 

"Is this why...?"

"I would not see you hurt when there are other ways to please you Jupiter."

"But, it's not impossible, a -stretch- sure... I mean, impressive, verrry impressive, but not frightening. Uh, lube should help. Like, a lot. And, yay, we have that here."

Gritting his teeth he dropped his hand, relishing the swift gasp and wide eyes as she realized the real issue.

"Stand up, please." 

Obeying but confused. He swallowed thickly as it brought his aching length level with her swollen lips, lashes sweeping up to catch his eye before re-examining his flesh.

"So this is what you've been hiding..." a swift lick knocking the breath from him as he trembled, overwrought.

"Well, practice, practice, practice. You teach me to fly, I'll teach you angry birds. You'll show me how to handle the whole queen thing, I'll show you how to prep me for, well, -your- thing."

An instinctive rumble tore through his chest as he realized she still wanted, was unafraid by this new and admittedly alien addition to their dynamic. 

He smiled, gentle and hungry, at the smug satisfaction on her face.

"Yes, your Majesty."

__

_He's slowly softening when she does the unthinkable., sucking her fingers clean of them both. One at a time and humming, tuneless, to herself as he tucks his cock back in his pants. Affirming her clothes are an utter disaster, saturated in the pink goop she'd insisted he try._

_It isn't until much later, when he's tucked her into a spare uniform and shown her home, that he unravels the mess to find his prize. Licking the strawberry flavor clean from the scrap of lace until the only scents remaining are his saliva and her far more tantalizing secretions._

_If she notices their absence when he returns her cleaned clothing the following day, she doesn't say a word._


	9. Field Dressing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jupiter finally uses her mother's gift.  
> Caine actually puts his foot down.

The first time Jupiter uses the whistle Caine is sparring with Stinger.

The pair flying low over the fields and beating each other senseless. Both Jupiter and Kiza's calls unheard or ignored as the boy's battle sweeps them farther away from the house. She loses patience after the fourth attempt to flag them down to dinner. Tugging the whistle to her lips and blowing as hard as she can in a last ditch effort to catch their attention.

It... _almost_ has the desired effect.

Caine whips around so quickly he nearly breaks his nose on Stinger's fist. Falling flat into the field, unconscious before he hits the ground.

 

Waking disoriented in his bed, scenting nothing but his own blood and nursing a wicked headache. Exacerbated by a nose stuffed overfull with gauze.

He makes it as far as the kitchen before Kiza bursts into helpless giggles, pointing to his face.

Fearing the worst, rushing to the washroom sink to check the dressings for the full extent of the damage. The crusted blood flecking off his upper lip as he examines the over large bandage, anchored poorly. Lifting the edge, he discovers the problem. 

It's not gauze but a tampon shoved up each nostril.

 

The Queen and her Honor Guard have their first and only triage dispute.

Feminine products are _**not**_ appropriate field dressings. (No matter how effective they may be.)


	10. Protect Your Assets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caine is an alpha.
> 
> A runt, albino, genetically flawed, packless alpha.
> 
> Sold to the Legion at a loss before he's old enough to fully open his eyes.
> 
> A pre-Ascending story in the Alpha/Omega verse.

Caine didn't know he was an alpha.

A runt, albino, genetically flawed and packless. Sold to the Legion at a loss before he's old enough to even open his eyes. This he knows.

Trained to answer only to the Legion. Curbing instincts, to follow orders and submit. Lycantants do not blindly obey, but disobedience can mean death. For himself and others. 

He trades his instincts, his purest self, to the Legion. To be a soldier, a a part of something greater, one with others so dissimilar yet the same. This is _all_ he knows.

A pack in all but name as they spar, jostling for positions and ranks. Fighting even harder to keep them.

Protecting the unit above all costs, dependent on his brothers and sisters in arms. Guarding their lives and securing their supplies, ensuring their survival as they do his, is fulfilling in ways he dares not think of as he's shuffled through the ranks.

 

Skyjackers.

The definition of freedom, in as much as a Splice could ever dream of achieving.

A whole new range of motion, a whole new _dimension_ for him to stretch his strengths and prove his worth in the only way he knows how. The fact that skyjackers are highly selective, entire units conscripted together and maintained for years at a time, factors little in his acceptance. Really.

The nerve grafts and alloy cores embedded under his skin and anchored within his ribs in a flexible lattice work, to better support the new weight, is worth the price to finally have someplace to call home. Even if it _is_ without an anesthetic.

His new commander is a brutal taskmaster one minute and the first to clap him on the shoulder with a clipped narration of his new squad mates the next. Letting him integrate by leaps and bounds on the borrowed memories.

It isn't until the first time one of their own breaks a wing behind enemy lines that Caine realizes his mistake.

He'd bonded with this group. Done the unthinkable and succumbed to base instinct, flinging himself to protect the young and deadly female, a cricket Splice that spits acid at the first weapons in range. He does more damage to them both scooping her to safety than she would have sustained without his assistance.

Stinger pulls him aside as soon as their grav boots touch shipside. 

"You're a lycantant, why does your sheave not have a designation."

Caine gestures vaguely to his coloring and width.

"Stock deemed undesirable was not processed for pack placement. A waste of resources for those unfit to breed or seed back into the genomic archive."

Stinger bristled as he assessed the stoic male.

"Beeswax. You're an alpha. I'll have to report this and have you reassigned."

Caine locked eyes with his commander, shocked and afraid.

"M-my instincts will not get the best of me again, Sir. I have no intention of vying for position or changing the dynamic."

"You stupid pup, what do you know about bees?"

His furrowed brow apparently answer enough.

"Male bees are a form of beta/omega hybrid, only capable of converting to the omega when presented with a compatible alpha in what your genome would refer to as a rut."

Caine's eyes widened.

"Even if I _wanted_ to keep you on my squad, you're an alpha without a pack, no outlet for the rut that is bound to happen eventually, and without the proper paperwork I can't even request the suppressants to make thus a null for months." Stinger scrubbed his face, mind churning to keep the best soldier he'd ever seen on his squadron, complications be damned. You didn't toss away a prime resource for something coded to be controllable.

He cupped his chin and scanned the younger male before him. Not the behemoth his breed prided itself to be, ferocious when necessary, yes, but stoic to the point of blank and intrinsically gentle when permitted to act on his own. The very antithesis of his genomegineering. Never mind his pigmentation. No telling where the defunct genes ended. Stinger weighed the odds and placed his bet accordingly. 

"You rut, you come to me. We'll get you some synth-suppressants on the next tour. Pay up front, nothing traceable and always double what you need. You deviate, you're gone. Do you understand me, Soldier?"

Relief drooping every line of Caine's form as he finally breathed. Snapping to attention with a sharp salute and grateful eyes.

"Yes, Commander."


	11. The Bird(Dog)s and the Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: IMPENDING THREESOME now with ABSOLUTELY NO DEVOLOPMENT OF THE PLOT whatsoever.
> 
> A post Ascending look at Protect Your Assets.
> 
> Part 1 of 2
> 
> Jupiter and Caine are still trying to work things out.  
> Stinger has an idea.  
> Caine has a better one.  
> Jupiter is surprisingly okay with this.
> 
>  
> 
> BLAME LEINA.

It takes three times before she realizes all her browser windows immediately going to large adult toys isn't a highly specific virus. Even then, it takes catching him carefully typing another round of presets to figure out what's going on.

"STINGER!? Wh-What the hell?!"

Of course, Caine ambles in at her shriek. He takes one look at the monitor, and all the many splendored things that still don't hold a candle to him, and blushes to his ear tips. 

His calm, "Why?" is more effective than her embarrassed spluttering. Stinger waves a hand to encompass the backyard, visible from the kitchen window. 

"We have three new queens and no hives to put them in. The two of you struggling with your status is screwing up the physiological chemistry, the pheromones, you both put out."

Jupiter is only vaguely sure it isn't _her_ status that's in question. It just makes her even more lost as to where this is going.

"I don't know what you mean."

Caine hunching into himself as Stinger glowers isn't helping.

The older male rubs his forehead. "Of course you don't... alright, so, Caine's an alpha, I know that doesn't mean much on this world, and trust me, it means even less to him. I'm a... well, beta/omega hybrid." He rubs a hand across his nape, uncomfortable. "It's a bee thing."

That didn't help her much. She looks between them trying to read between the lines where this is headed. 

Speaks slowly to be sure she understands. "So, Caine's an alpha, you're a beta. -Ish. What am I again?"

It's Caine's rumbled "Everything." that does her in. Whatever they're selling, she'll buy ten, just for the look he gives her when he says it.

"If the state of the kitchen last week is anything to go by," She blushes at the reminder, flicks a glance to see Caine's eyes flash gold as her scent deepens. "it's a size issue, not a lack of compatibility or interest. So, order something, it'll help."

Jupiter isn't really mentally prepared for this moment, being ordered to buy a sex toy so her boyfriend can bang her with his amazing penis wasn't exactly part of her sex ed. It shows.

"Did you just order me to buy a sex toy? Since when is that okay?"

"The Legion assigned me to you as your advisor, at your request. So, I'm _advising_ you to try this." He's not exactly blushing but he absolutely won't look at her as he makes his point. "Find something that will bridge the gap and get used to it. You need a transition. Something temporary to help you adjust."

She bites back her knee-jerk response, finally looking at the screen as what he says starts to make sense. 

"Stinger." 

Caine's voice dropping an octave sets her on edge, and rise to Stinger's defense, even as she scrolls through options, trying to find something she might be comfortable with.

She quells him with a wave, "He's just trying to help. it's not really like it's a bad idea.."

"No, Stinger."

Jupiter rounds on him, "It will work. we just have to try it! Don't just say no because it's not something you're used to. We talk about it, then we deal. Remember!?"

He blinks, assessing her mood. Rising to cup her face, kissing her gently, before turning her to lean back against him. Caine tucks his chin over her shoulder and locks eyes with the other male as he closes the laptop.

"No. Stinger."

She must be missing something because Stinger is off the wall and pacing, mumbling about that's not what he'd intended.

_Oh. **Stinger.**_

She dips her head back to try and catch Caine's eye, curious why this is his acceptable alternative.

"Plastic and silicon and glass won't know how you feel, anything close to my size could still hurt you if used improperly. You need someone who knows what they're doing to you to make sure you're safe. Who can feel what they're doing to you and react accordingly. Without that, I can't..."

"Hey, I get it. not entirely sure what to _do_ with it, but I think I understand."

Stinger is stares at them, working his mouth in hard line as they discuss him fucking his queen to prepare her for his alpha. Nearly regretting his involvement as it leads to someplace he didn't dare consider without permission.

It's Jupiter's shy glance that brings him closer.

His queen is not unwilling, his alpha permitting him his deeply hidden dream.

He rasps a time three days from now and feigns calm until he's in his room. Cupping his head on bent knees, wondering where it will go wrong.


	12. The Bird(Dogs) and the Bees. Part 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after is only as awkward as you make it. Too bad the only parts she can remember are setting her up to fail.

Waking up with only a mild hangover from the Legion's version of a kegger and about half an acre of beard burn across her chest, Jupiter was willing to call the night a win. Right up until the moment Stinger cornered her at breakfast to ask about Earth birth control.

She'd only just managed to snag her customary chair at the table, a cup of perfectly doctored coffee steaming fragrantly between her hands when he'd plunked down next to her, clicking away on Kiza's laptop and quizzing her on the latest in prophylactics and their function.

The sudden and vivid reminder of her dream kicking her square in the forehead as she blushed crimson to her chest. He studiously avoided looking her in the face. Desperate to avoid whatever.... _This._ was, she fumbled out her phone and clicked on the browser, trying to pull up wikipedia and end this waking nightmare.

_Oh. My. **Gawd.**_

There were no less than six, _**SIX**_ , sex toys in her shopping cart on Amazon. A variety of vibrators and thrusting, whirring gizmos of increasing size. Trying not to hear Stinger's lesson from the dream, something about transition objects and helping her adjust, as it flashed through her again. She was afraid to scroll down to see the rest of the drunken list.

Stinger was still making noises that may or may not have been actual speech. She hazarded a glance to confirm he was still looking anywhere but her before attempting to casually delete the impressive selection and closing out the window. The two more pages beneath it were worse.

One an article about the 30+ Huge Dildos she Wouldn't Have Room For, her jaw cracked at how fast it dropped at _that_ title, the other had a curt thank you and an order number for confirmation. 

Aaaaand space booze was forever off her menu. 

Jupiter had no idea what she'd done to warrant this bass ackward lecture on responsibility but, given she had no recollection of ordering any sex toys either, she wasn't entirely convinced it was undeserved.

Caine's sudden appearance at her elbow, kneeling to check her flushed skin and skimming over the tingling burn left from his nuzzling, startled her into action.

Trying to quickly stuff the phone in her pocket with fingers stiff from panic ended with her punting her cell to the floor. Jupiter clenched her eyes and trembled, spine stiff, before calmly placing her head on the table and banging it with a groan. 

"I have no idea what happened last night. If I promise to never **_ever_** do it again can we just forget this and let me bury my shame with my iPhone? Seriously, a trowel and five minutes of silence for the loss of whatever sanity I thought I possessed last night."

Caine's hand cupped her forehead, a calloused cushion for her continued headbanging. The thumb of his other running over her newly fractured screen. Somehow this made it worse, seeing his furrowed brow examining the damage and slowly pushing her coffee closer without looking when she finally gave up on the plan to knock some sense back in the hard way.

Stinger's gruff, "Majesty? What are you talking about?" muddling her further.

"Whatever I did last night.... To earn the uh, The Talk, I swear I don't remember." Curling her fingers around the still warm mug, drawing enough comfort to look at the elder male, she tried to ignore her scalding cheeks and Caine's intense scrutiny of her face. 

"I promise, the last thing I remember is Caine getting all growly at the guy with the..." she fluttered a hand to encompass her own jaw "purple feathers? I guess?" The memory of what happened next shivering through her when the lycantant next to her grumbled and leaned into her thigh, seeking more than attention.

"You didn't last long after that, Majesty. I, uh, may have been a bit overzealous, but" Caine turned her face to him with gentle fingers, ears tinged pink at the confession "nothing happened after that."

She slumped in her seat, lashes fluttering as the relief swept through her, before pinning Stinger with a glare.

"Then, what the-"

"Kiza has a boyfriend. Or is interested enough to ask about... Not exactly familiar with Earth-"

Watching him flounder was too painful even if he had nearly given her a panic attack.

"Kiza needs The Talk? Don't you guys have some form of interstellar spermicide or something?"

Both males blinked at her like she'd managed to smack them both upside the head without once leaving her seat. She was getting a little tired of that expression.

"The Legion, uh, it's standard procedure to receive inoculations or sterilization implants once a certain age is reached. For the males. Kiza was too young and now..."

"Now her little barista isn't. And you want to make sure she's safe."

He'd furrowed his brow at the new information, clearly tucking it away to examine further, before nodding once.

"Daddy's little girl is growing up. Want me to take care of it?"

Stinger's relief plain in the instantly drooped shoulders as the tension drained from his frame. She managed a soft smile at his reaction, leaning deeper into her boyfriend's side when he grumbled that the younger woman was too young and tweaking an ear tip to shush him.

"Consider it done. And we never speak of this again."


	13. Whistle While You Work.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses.

The second time she uses the whistle Vladie is trying to get her wrapped up in another get rich quick scheme as they're prepping dinner. Knowing exactly how well the last one went (Winged Wolf Wonder not withstanding) she'd done everything she could think of to discourage him before Caine got wind of it. 

Convinced she had birthing hips (Liar.), that no one would say anything (Ha!) or just think her fat (Seriously?), that women paid good money to get bigger tits (She could have gone the rest of her life without seeing her cousin's fuzzy pecs squished into an exaggerated cleave complete with batting lashes and (un)inticing wiggle. Thanks.), and really, how else could she make 30 grand in nine months by doing nothing? Well, 18 for her, 12 for him. 

At least this time the percentages worked in her favor. Pity she wasn't willing to rent out her womb. Vladie's parting shot of how she wouldn't show for months well worth the knife she brandished at him when her mother rounded the corner into the kitchen with wide eyes. 

The knock on the door killing any deflection she might have had (Nothing.) as cousin Vassily opened the door to wave Stinger and Kiza in to sit as Caine parked the car. Well, either Caine was in for the shock of his life or she could feed Vladie to the wolves. As soon as Mama rounded the corner she yanked the whistle from her blouse and blew so hard the neighbor's dogs howled. The door nearly blew off the hinges as Caine barrelled in the back. 

Snatching his arm and scuttling him outside as fast as possible, just in time to watch Stinger's car jump the curb before stuttering slowly down the street.

"You didn't even park first?"

Still concerned, he scanned for threats from the opened door frame. Finding none, he shrugged before answering.

"Sounded like you needed me more, Majesty."

She huffed a laugh as it continued to creep closer to crazy Mrs. Rubins old stationwagon. 

"Thank you, go park please. Just remember, no matter what you hear," she cast him a quick glance and caught his hand, pressing it to her chest to convey her heartfelt sincerity, "you can't kill my cousin. I get him first." 

He cocked his head to the side, clearly listening to the arguement burbling up from the house behind them. Lips twitching in amusement as his brow rose incredulously. Focusing again on her face as she tried to pretend he wasn't hearing her entire family shouting about her potential pregnancy in at least three different languages. He gently pulled their twined fingers to his mouth to brush a kiss across her hand.

"You'll have to find him first." 

Vladie burst from the house at a dead run, door slamming shut behind him, babbling apologies, nearly losing his shoe as he slid off the still moving bumper, before disappearing between two houses.

She cracked a smile at the trail of bees slowly bobbing behind him.

"Nah, somehow, I think I've got it covered. Dinner?"

Caine sauntered off to catch the car.


	14. Sampling the Local Cuisine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Muneca: Caine bemused when earth girls start hitting on him and Jupiter's reaction to it like a series of them throughout the day 1st time Jupiter is amused 2nd she is little annoyed 3rd time she gets right possessive with his person. Showing that she might not be a wolf but she has the same instincts when it comes to her mate.
> 
> Part One of Two.

It's not until she's tucking his delicately pointed ears into the soft knit cap, taking his hand to pull him through line to get their tickets to the food festival that she really realizes how little she sees him eat.

They've eaten together before, but he normally just doubles her order and seldom deviates. The only preference he's shown so far is to avoid raw onions, scrunching his nose like they sting when he can't find a way to pull them from his meal.

There's a veritable cornucopia of foods and flavors she's confident he's never tried. She wants to test his boundaries and lets him choose.

He's leading her from behind, head swiveling as some scent catches his attention, grip shifting on her wrist. She tries very hard not to look smug when she orders two German bratwursts with all the trimmings. 

The girl behind the counter fumbles her change and looks at Caine with wide eyes as he dips his head, chest expanding to sift the scents more fully, he doesn't notice when she blushes and the chattering in the makeshift kitchen halts.

The wrapper for his has no less than four phone numbers.

She notices him surreptitiously checking hers for the same, clearly confused on the meaning when he finds none. Inordinately pleased and saddened that he never seems to see his own appeal. Oblivious to the batting lashes, flirty grins and lingering touches as she lets him take over ordering.

By the third stall and _fifth_ napkin more covered in ink than grease, she starting to get annoyed. She sidles closer to him, bumping his hip, brushing his arm. Torn between trying to subtly say he's hers without printing it on his forehead and wishing he could see how many others think he's worth a second glance. Not just the third class citizen he still thinks himself as.

They're wandering over to the booze and sweets section when the gaggle of tipsy twenty-somethings press close and envelope them. She loses his fingers in the crush. Calmly stepping to the side, knowing he'll find her, crushing that plan beneath her stomped foot when she sees a leggy blonde with perfect tits scrawling something across his palm as he watches bemused.

If she checks the girl hard enough to make her stumble in her strappy little heels, well, it must be accidental.

Caine looks vaguely concerned, lips pressed into a firm line, as if he's not sure what he's done wrong, leading them to the last stand in the line advertising an amazing looking cream puff. He's careful to order from the male, but Jupiter doesn't notice, too wrapped up in her own doubts to see him trying to gauge the problem.

It's when he returns with a chocolate drizzled creampuff half the size of her face that she has a light bulb. 

Telling him to take the first bite, that it's big enough to share, just not meant to split and that they'll have to take turns. His teeth crunch smoothly through the flakey pastry, but it's the rich cream oozing through the sides that she's looking for. She laughs as he looks sheepishly at his hands, unsure again, before she helpfully licks his fingers. Giggling and trying not to make it obvious as she licks the ink and sweet from his skin.

His eyes absolutely glow as he catches her, smirking softly, as he waits for her to finish before kissing the black smudges from her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Caine tries the beers, Jupiter's a tactile drunk. Somebody gets a licking, and it's not who you'd expect.


	15. Sampling the Local Cuisine Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He likes her temper. Especially when directed not at him.
> 
> The threats of violence on his behalf are just a bonus.

Jupiter can feel her temper rising as they head deeper into the temporary beer garden.

She's determined to show Caine what he's missing and orders up a sampler from the main tent, not looking at the menu. Vibrating with outrage at the clicking crescendo snaking it's way across the room.

He huffs, displeased, when the same blonde as before makes another round, brushing against the arm not holding onto Jupiter's hand. It doesn't last long, but it's enough for Jupe to close her eyes and slowly count to ten, in Russian, then English, then in increasingly creative filthy Russian swears. 

It's Caine's choked laugh behind her that breaks the tension. He looks shocked and amused, with just the faintest glimmer of respect for the eloquent arrangements. 

Well, this is interesting.

"You know Russian?"

He shrugs his shoulders and takes the tray from the drooling hostess, it easily has thirty cups. Turning to find a table in a quiet corner before relieving himself of the load and tapping the small metal click behind his ear as if that explains anything.

Her look must say something to that effect before he shrugs, pulling out her chair before lowering himself across from her. His boots clanking on the seat at her hip startles her.

"Down is easy, up is hard?"

He smiles gently, obviously pleased she remembers.

"I don't fully understand it myself, but the only way I could explain would have it make less sense than if I didn't."

That sentence alone takes her a minute to muddle through, so she lets it go in favor of sorting through the flavors on the table.

Each sample is only about a fourth of a cup but thirty of them, even split between them, leaves Jupiter pleasantly pleased to be there. Soaking in the breeze flirting through the tent before excusing herself to toss the empty cups, and splash some water on her heated cheeks.

She is _not_ expecting little miss leggy to oh so transparently dump her drink into Caine's lap and immediately start blotting his crotch, practically with her mouth.

She's not sure if she can blame the rage that follows on the Bolotnikovs or the Abrasax. Oblivious to Caine's rising panic she stomps closer she plants her own boot on the edge of his chair and kicks out enough to turn it out from under the creepy affections of the harpy.

Settling herself squarely on his thigh, she leans back to brush a kiss against his covered ear. Maintaining eye contact with the other woman as she takes the napkins still in his lap and cups him through his pants. He chokes behind her and huffs a growl in the fine hairs of her nape.

Calmly looking at the gaping blonde, she says as quietly as she can "If she doesn't leave right _now,_ I'm gonna shove my boot up her ass and work her like a puppet."

His whole body twitches to stare at her, she doesn't see the creeping smile in response to her possessiveness, only feels the warm hands turning her in his lap. 

He's amused and she's angry, but not at him. So she licks into his mouth to suck his tongue before dropping back mulishly, displeased but aware they are still in public. Caine has little issues folding her knees closer and snuffling in her hair scenting for jealousy and finding outrage, apparently on his behalf.

The alcohol affecting her strangely as she nips his neck just over his collar bones. Hard enough to leave the imprint of her teeth. Caine's reaction is instant and severe.

Her head is tilted back from his sudden presence at her throat, he's thrumming hard enough the contents of the cups are quivering. She knows just how they feel as she tips boneless to give him better access to whatever it is he seeks.

It must be the right response because he nips a line to her ear and back, sucking a deep bruise over her clavicle and flexing his hips when she slicks for him. Trembling as he locks his jaw over her collar bone, the strong pull from his mouth feels like he's lapping between her thighs.

It's the not so distant cheering that does her in.

The lyrics familiar and old as Caine's brow creases when she starts vibrating in his lap. She tries clapping her fingers over her mouth to stifle it but it just makes her eyes leak, as the chorus starts. She doubles over, hysterical, as "WHO LET THE DOGS OUT!" is screamed out from the speakers. Completely missing Caine's incredulous disbelief at the song.

She's so dizzy she sits on the ground, pointing to her own chest. Grinning at him until he shakes his head and cracks a smile in response when she woofs.

She stumbles when he pulls her to stand. His face suddenly too close to let her focus as she quickly reconsiders how much she had to drink. Listing into his side, she drops her head to his chest, nuzzling.

He tucks an arm under her legs, as she blinks at him. Bleary eyed and trusting, just like the very first time, as he turns to take her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved the scene where Caine drops an octave and says "If I were trying to wound you Mr. Night, you wouldn't be breathing." cuz, guh, that _voice._
> 
> Pretty sure it's reasonable to think he'd like it if she returned the favor.


	16. Morning Wood (How to Give a Girl a Complex)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They really need to work on their communication.

Jupiter groans as aching cramps settle low in her belly and trail up her spine. She's got four duplexes with carpeted stairs and three and a half baths each to thank for the ineffectiveness of her Midol. The heat wrap she stole from Mikka, in exchange for the lost chocolates, falling off as she lugged the vacuum up the steps in the last house. She hadn't felt it worth the effort bending to retrieve the thing, simply kicking it to the cart at the foot of the stairs.

Grumbling to herself the entire way home as even her mother gives her a wide berth.

She wanted three things dammit and just _knew_ none of them were going to happen. 

She wanted to sleep for the next three days, to eat her weight in chocolate and not gain any fat, to take a hot bubble bath and not feel like she was turning into soup.

She'd settle for Caine heating her belly and rubbing her back.

He'd been much more forthcoming with his affections after the disaster at the food festival and she's pretty sure she can talk him into it with minimal fuss. Still a little fuzzy on the details but happy to scrape her nails across the fading bruise at her throat and wonder how to get a repeat performance as she waits for him to drop in.

Pleased that Aunt Nino had talked Aleksa into some weekly astrology bookclub in an effort to get her mother more out there and well aware the woman had only agreed to avoid Jupiter's increasingly foul mood.

She sneaks a quick text off to Kiza to see if he's left yet, barely clicking send before he'd tapped against the window.

Waving him in, she burrowed deeper in her covers, patting the bed beside her meaningfully.

Caine quirks a brow and tucks his wings tight to slip through the small opening. 

"Are you alright?" 

Her pouted lip brought him closer to the edge of mattress even if it made him look less concerned and more like he was humoring her strange whims.

"Not sick, sore. I just really want to snuggle something warm. Can I borrow you?"

His huffed laugh as he crouched to remove his boots filled her with victory and a frissure if pleasure at the play of muscles working as he rid himself of the heavy gear to clamber in behind her.

It was his soft "Oh" that should have clued her in when she shifted the covers enough to settle him at her back.

The corded tension in the arm she'd draped across herself to stick just under the edge of her loose sweats could be explained by some supposed boundary she's unaware of. Too tired to bother with it, she ignores the signs, hoping he'll relax.

His heat almost lulling her to sleep before the sudden shuddering gasp at her ear startles her, the soft pull flexing his chest against her back and making her realize he'd been holding his breath the entire time.

_Oh._

She's off the bed and making excuses for him, throwing open the window to let some fresh air in, snatching the first thing from her dresser and booking it to the showers before the glazed eyes even have time to blink.

Half wolf, super smell, and _fuck_ she feels like an idiot. Of course he acted like that, it probably smells gross and she almost cries at how sweet he was to stick it out like he had. Practically scrubbing herself raw trying to rid her body of the supposed stink.

She sees him only once in the next three days. He's gliding over the roof of the next house when her crew stops outside to divide their lunches, scattering across the little park nestled in the suburb. She pretends not to notice his full body blanch before he gets within ten feet of her, promising to see him at Stinger's over the weekend as something in her dies.

The two more days between then enough to fix the problem.

 

Jupiter has no idea he spends each morning arching to his fist, lathing the pillow she'd saturated with his tongue, desperate for even a secondhand taste.

Trying to fight every instinct he had that screamed she was warm, ripe and ready. Her distance not unnoticed as he curbed.

Stinger calmly handed him an ax on the third day and tells him to clear the wood on the back of the property. He relaxes into the motions as the exertion soothes the worst of it. 

Caine feels enough in control to seek her out. Her scent calls to him so loudly he has to physically check himself before he pins her to the tree she'd stacked her lunch.

Her instantly shuttered face and waved raincheck cooling him quickly.

The grove gets smaller every morning that she's gone. He takes the time to turn the felled logs to shingles for the house, just to give him something _else_ to do with his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A period piece.  
> And an obvious double entendre as the title.  
> I have no shame.


	17. Pyotr and the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her watchdog gets a watchdog.  
> 1st prompt for Unseelieddragon: Jupiter gets a puppy. I swear I might hate you a little, cuz you've got two more coming after this one.

It isn't until Pyotr brings home a stray that she realizes the full extent of the changes Caine is wreaking in her life.

"He's just a puppy."

"That thing is filthy, I want it out of my house!"

"So?! He needs a bath! Some soap, a hose, it' not like no one in this house knows how to clean!"

"The size of those feet? He'll be a monster. And we don't need another mouth to feed, we barely tolerate Vladie as it is!"

Her cousin's indignant "Hey!" her only warning as Caine follows him inside.

He looks concerned by the raised voices and hands slashing in aggravation. The arguments swirling around her as he looks for the source of the problem.

A sweeping tail thumps under the table when the mud streaked monster pads to his feet.

It takes everything in her not to giggle as they regard one another with twin cocked heads and assessing eyes.

Her family slowly quieting as the pair continue their staring contest.

It's Aunt Nino who bumps her elbow, whispering "What's he doing?"

Caine rumbled "Establishing hierarchy." earning him a pleased bob from Uncle Vassily who immediately launches into a long winded rebuttal on why such a large breed would be nothing but trouble.

It's only because she's watching so closely that she sees what really happens next. Caine's shoulders slant under his coat, a sure sign he's shuffling his wings into something more prepared for battle than the living room requires. His chest expands, neck cording strangely as _something_ shudders through her, raising gooseflesh across her skin.

Between one blink and the next, the dog is on it's back, limbs sprawled to show the tender belly, neck exposed as it whimpers softly, trembling.

Whatever he's doing, he cranks it down a notch, dropping to one knee and cupping his hand over the quivering nose. She watched as he runs the other palm down the matted fur and protruding ribs, thoughtful.

Caine is clearly ignoring the sudden and unusual silence as her family absorbs this instant transformation. 

He slowly tips his palm, the dog tucks and rolls to follow, still snuffling at his wrist. He rises to stand, it sits quietly at his feet. He huffs a breath and flicks a hand to Jupiter, the dog raises it's head to scope her out.

It'd be surreal if she hadn't seen lizard people and refineries for people juice and discovered for herself how easy it was to bribe the interstellar DMV.

Later, her mother will swear the mutt nodded to him before slowly circling Jupiter's feet. 

Somehow, the beast ends up sleeping at the foot of her bed. It's quiet chuffing snores bringing a smile to her face as it reminds her if her other watchdog, no doubt sleeping on the roof.


	18. Ganymede and Science Fiction.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one about the dogs. I swear.
> 
> (I'm probably lying.)

Ganymede is actually a pretty chill dog, the name is a mouthful, but the smile on her mom's face when Caine dropped that bomb was perfect.

Ganymede, the beautiful and third largest of Jupiter's moons. _After Stinger and himself, of course._

She's not only got a Wolf Angel Hybrid who quite possibly worships the ground she walks on, he's _funny_ too. It's quick and dry, fleeting, like he's not sure it's appropriate but she's slowly learning to read him. Whenever his eyes spark just so, if she sasses him, he'll tease her. 

It's a little ridiculous that she finds it as sexy as she does. 

When she asks him which one is Stinger, he smirks at her, bumps her hip, flexing and says "All these worlds are yours accept Europa."

She has _no_ idea who showed him 2010 A Space Odyssey, but is delighted when Vassily spits his coffee all over Zeno with a laugh.


	19. Pyotr and the Wolf (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The side effect of prompt 1.
> 
> Caine has never really thought about acceptance, or what many forms and shades it comes in.

She's shuffling boxes in the attic, trying to find where she'd stuffed the sheave the last time she nearly got caught trying to decipher the Instinctual Awareness seminar Kiza had helpfully passed along.

Her internet research had resulted in some strange viruses and even stranger looks when she'd been forced to smuggle it out for repairs. 

Pyotr, the ever helpful little worm, snags the box to her left and starts rummaging as if expecting presents. She'd be panicking if she hadn't already scoured that one. Smirking at his disappointed mou when the only thing of interest is an ancient VHS, the only lettering still visible says his name.

"It's Peter and the Wolf." He looks even more unimpressed at this.

She snatches the tape back to trot downstairs. 

"Shut up, it was awesome when you were five and you know it."

The old TV still has an embedded player so she plunks it in. Jabbing buttons to rewind, almost from the end. Grumbling about inconsiderate past selves for the nth time and for _once_ not thinking of dude smoothies and Kalique's coy grin.

Her family slowly trickles in as the music plays.

She's unprepared when the doorbell rings and she sees she's late for her date. Flinging herself up the steps to slap on a clean shirt and remembering at the last second to skip the perfume.

She's rushing down the stairs when she realizes it's too late. Caine's warm rumble answering her family's round of questions carefully, eyes locked to the screen until Aleksa flicks a glance and smiles at him for the first time.

"Do you know the story?"

He blinks at her, cautious, and shakes his head once in the negative. When she loops her arm through his and pulls him to the couch Jupiter knows she's in trouble.

They watch the whole thing again, Caine sandwiched on the couch between her and her mother. Looking through baby books she thought she'd destroyed after the very first boy she brought home. 

Unsure how to interpret his soft responses as he slowly turns each page, scanning every photo.

Grandma Petra even finds the ancient stuffed wolf Jupiter only half remembers. He's worn thin on one side. Plush gray fur matted and dull with age, but his eyes are still copper penny orange for all their scoring, tail drooping just the same. Smiling at the old friend, and forgetting for the moment her audience, she bops their noses together and croons, stroking stuffed ears. Cuddling Vuk close and glaring harshly at Pyotr's grabby hands.

She hides him against her hip, looking up and catching the softest smile she's ever seen on Caine's face. She blushes when he quirks a brow and purposefully glances at the toy between them.

It's after this second, and infinitely improved, reception by her family that he takes her to the small den nearby, used only when she's home. He kisses her unprompted, trailing fingers through her hair and slowly coaxing her to drift in his arms. He spends the rest of their time together with her tucked under his chin.

That night, she puts Vuk on the little ledge outside her window before taking her turn to do the dishes. By the time she's done, he's gone.

She falls asleep listening to Caine gently whistling the song from the roof over her bed.


	20. Be There With Bells On (Smut)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to live together, even temporarily, exposes a few more quirks she never considered.
> 
>  
> 
> FemDom with feels.

It just isn't fair. She rolls out of bed looking like she'd licked her light socket and sounding like a stampede until she gets her hands on that first cup of coffee and a decent bristle brush. Caine's close cropped strands never waivered, only poofing in the best of just-been-fucked ways after seriously heavy petting, and even then returning with preternatural precision to their proper places.

The man snubbed his nose at coffee after the third time Stinger calmly stole his cup to dump down the sink. She still wasn't clear if the problem was with the beverage or the thought of Caine consuming the stimulant.

By then it was clear she'd gone and made that most rookie of mistakes: Falling for a morning person. An almost stoic, unnaturally graceful, gravity boot wearing morning person with ridiculous hearing.

Don't even get her started on how quiet he can be.

She digressed.

He was trying, really. It wasn't his fault that the walls of Stinger's home hummed with sychophantic bees swarming to be closer, regardless of which room she was in. It was almost sweet but made it impossible for her to hear anyone coming down the hallway to her temporary room. Toss in the fact that the hundred year old house creaked only for one queen and, well, suffice to say, the other's always knew at once where she was and when she changed from that location. The house Caine's personal Jupiter GPS.

He'd brought her something every morning. Coffee, breakfast in bed after watching one too many rom-coms with Kiza, a book, always something sweet and thoughtful and by god if he snuck up on her again she was going to break something.

He'd stopped using the grav boots in the house so she could stop playing marco polo before turning corners. It didn't make much difference.

She didn't bother rolling out of bed, just kicked the covers to the floor, aware the bees would let the others know she was awake. Wondering how long it would take before Caine's instincts got the best of him. He was always so damn _eager_ in the morning. She scrubbed a hand over her face, not quite prepared to deal with it after so many sudden startles. Sitting up and blindly reaching for her phone, finally sneaking a peak to check the time and shrieking when she spotted Caine sitting on the bedding by her feet.

"PUT A DAMN BELL ON!" Flopping back, she clenched her eyes shut. Hands shuttering her face, repentant at the volume if not the sentiment. "Jeeezus, Caine. Make a sound next time, I'll live longer."

Peeking through her fingers at his hunched shoulders, she sighed and nudged him with toes to his hard chest. His contrite expression blurred where his brows were drawn as if considering something important.

"Everything alright?"

His shrug rippled across her arch as he pushed into her foot. His solid reassurance soothing her tattered nerves.

"I need to get some supplies in town with Kiza, Majesty. Stinger will stand guard."

Her own brow furrowed in concern.

"Anything I need to be aware of? Her last trip was yesterday."

A shrug her only answer as he held aloft a steaming cup of liquid joy. Two sugars, splash of cream. Taking the offering as the apology she refused to let him voice, after the first dozen or so incidents, she smiled her forgiveness and breathed deep of the only nectar she'd ever imbibe.

"Shall I leave you to your jubilation, Majesty?"

"Shhh, don't tease. The first morning cup is practically a religious experience."

His huffed laugh curling her toes against him. She closed her eyes to better enjoy the vibration.

"I'll be back before dark, is there anything you'd like me to retrieve for you?"

"All right here, hurry back please."

His "Yes, Majesty." spoken from the door before she'd registered the loss of his warmth.

Knowing Stinger would take the guard duty much too seriously unless distracted, she braced herself to learn far more about the worlds she'd never have dreamed existed a mere three months ago, let alone that they now owed their continued existance to her. Stretching as she decided she could at least pay attention.

 

 

By the time the sun had set on the house she'd absorbed the knowledge of four more Dynasties, complete with their heirs and respective markets, as well as the resources (aside from the one orginally intended) from the seven largest of her newly aquired worlds.

She sprawled out on the couch in the main room, grateful for the cold glass suddenly pressed to her temple. Blinking bleary eyes as Kiza twinkled down at her when she handed over the cool water before nodding a quick goodnight and fairly running upstairs.

It was Stinger's quiet "Beeswax" that clued her in.

Sitting up, she caught the tail end of Stinger as he waved her torwards the kitchen before following his daughter up the steps.

She slowly crept in, wary but curious. She found Caine seated at the table. Hands folded over what looked like a belt strap with too many buckles. Confused when it clinked softly as he shifted. He kept glancing at her, tracking her feet, but no higher before flicking to the chair, the doorway, and then his hands. Easily repeating the circuit four times as she made her way to join him at the table. Watching in fascination as he flushed when she'd seated herself next to rather than across from him.

Laying her hand across his, teasing the length, no, lengths of what looked like leather from underneath his sweating palms.

He mumbled something she couldn't make out, flushing to the tips of his ears as she layed out three strips of leather. Two fashioned like watch cuffs from the thickness of the bands to the little metal closures. The only difference being the lack of time piece and tiny metal hoop dangling from the center of the straps.

The third piece was different. The wide band of a heavier weight than the others and longer. It had the same little circle in the middle and twin perforations lined up at it's edges, as though it were meant to be laced together.

She watched vaguely dumbfounded as he unwound a thin leather strand from his thumb and handed it to her.

When she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off, hands quickly rising as though to ward off judgement as he dove beneath the table for a small jewelers box. Placing it exactly between the first two strips and glancing at her expectantly before dropping his eyes to stare a hole through the table as his flush returned.

Jupiter had a vague idea where the leather bands were leading, but the box... She shifted, unsure how to proceed. Nerves ramping higher when he mirrored her unease and fairly squirmed in his seat. Deciding to bite the bullet and put them both out of their misery she quickly flipped the lid and stared.

Five perfectly round bells, gold tinged and no larger than the tip of her thumb, rested on a velvet cushion.

Caine trembled beside her as she carefully lifted one out, pinching the tiny clasp between thumb and forefinger to gently shake it. Inordinately pleased to see his ears perk at the soft chime.

"Bells..." she watched his profile as she wrung the little ball again, the quick swallow and shiver not lost on her as she smiled at him. Reaching out she turned his left hand over and gently placed the orb in his palm, it's muted ring still sending a ripple through his frame.

"You're going to wear these." It was not a question.

He swallowed thickly and clenched his hand around the sphere.

"Yes, your Majesty."

She picked up the first of the smaller strips and banded it across his right wrist, his eyes watching her with something close to rapture as she plucked up the second ball and snaped the clasp on the ring dripping from his wrist. Turning his left hand palm down she repeated the process, leaving the first ball still clenched in his fist.

"Why are there five Caine?"

He shuffled his feet under the table and made to stand until she ran a hand over his sculpted shoulder.

"Your feet as well, how thoughtful, thank you."

She turned the final strap to lay between his hands and rose from the table. Trailing her fingers up his arm to gently tweak an ear tip.

"The sound does not annoy you?"

"No, your Majesty."

"Is this why you left today? To find these for me?" She spread both palms across his shoulder blades, flexing nails through the fabric of his shirt.

His "Yes, your Majesty." gone breathy as he inhaled deeply to push more of him into her hands.

She soothed her hands over his back, curling around his shoulders, gliding down his arms. Flicking the little bells as she pressed her breasts to his spine with the stretch.

Her "Good boy." clawing through him as she licked a path up the side of his neck. Teeth tugging the lobe of his ear in warning when his shifting sent the charms tinkling against the edge of the table.

She plucked the strip from between his hands and loosely wrapped it around his neck. Clucking her tongue at the fit before dropping it back to the table.

"Move your chair away from the table, place the bell in your mouth."

He obeyed, trembling as she helped him spin the chair to face her, popping the metal in his mouth and sitting as quickly as possible. She stroked his hair and scatched her nails through his goatee. High on his mumbled purr. Picking up the last two bells and tie she knelt at his feet to pull the boots off. The leather bands already in place, soon after adorned with the charms swaying above his heels to hang like spurs.

"Would it be uncomfortable to wear these with the boots?" Seeing him work his mouth around the bell, she shushed him with a kiss.

"Blink twice for yes, once for no."

His eyes were liquid pools as he blinked twice slowly, gazing only at her face.

" _Such_ a good boy..." He trembled.

She licks into his mouth, clacking the ball against his teeth with her tongue. Reweaving the collar against his neck as he flushed, panting, when the leather touched his skin.

The kitchen chair is high backed and armless. It's easy for her to coax him out of his shirt, wings pressing tight to his skin to slip free of the material. Abs flexing as he moves and shivering with want when she clicks her tongue each time his shifting chimes out. Nothing at all to reach his arms behind, to have him to clasp the table in a brutal grip. Spread wide to allow his gifts to hang, loose and trembling with his hitching breaths.

She sits sideways across his lap, pets his cheek and the soft strands behind the delicately pointed ears, letting him settle himself with gulps of air until the ringing stops. He whines in the back of his throat when she finally looks him in the eyes.

Stretching across him to reach the abandoned tie to the collar slowly sliding down his chest. Her breasts push his cheek and his head turns into the soft skin, rumbling loud enough to rattle the chime on his tongue.

She feels him startle at the strange noise, the wave of tension echoing at his wrists.

Pulling back to stand between his splayed knees, forcing him to meet her gaze on an even keel.

"Before I put this on you, I want you to understand what I'll expect from you, Caine." He blinks twice slowly, clicking teeth against the metal in his mouth. "Once this collar is on, you're mine."

A shudder wracks his frame, she waits until the shimmering sound settles like his skin.

"You won't have permission to move unless I say so, and your bells will tell me if you do. And, if you do, I'm starting over. From the very beginning, every time. If you want something, you'll have to ask me. Nicely. And if you're a good boy I'll give it too you."

A livid flush spreads under the leather and down to stain his chest, sweat beading on his skin. She couldn't help licking across his cheek to taste it. From the firmer cartilage of his ear to the quivering corner of his mouth. Caine pants openly, tongue tucked against his teeth, keeping the bell inside and highlighting fangs.

"You have three choices: let this happen as it flows, _tell_ me what you want, or fight your instincts and suffer in silence as we circle the same torments over and over again."

Eyes flashing, he rumbles his question, "The third option?"

Trembling hands betray her nerves as she clenches the leather tight, lacing the edges together with stuff fingers but not knotting the cord. Something powerful sweeping low and deeply sweet at the sight of his massive shoulders corded tightly still and held there only by his devotion to her whim.

"You pull this off and it ends. Just that simple."

He nods his understanding and she stiffens. Eyes widening as he realizes his mistake.

His "Yes, your Majesty." groaned out between grit teeth as his chest flexed and dipped, thighs trembling.

She kisses him once, sweetly, before telling him to telling him to strip.

Shifting as his strong thighs and calves are exposed, she ignores for now the twinkling bells. By the time he sits and resumes his pose he's calmer. Not quite so flushed and desperate.

It's the thin stripe of wet, glinting on his stomach, that shows how truly wrecked he is.

Jupiter extends her palm to cup his chin delicately between her fingers. Hoping for imperious and getting husky. "Give me the ball." He licks it into her waiting hand, trailing tongue over her wrist in a quick ticklish caress.

She clips the final bell in place. Then steps back to strip.

Shrugging shirt off slim shoulders, fingers flying through the buttons, waiting for some sign of where to begin. Hoping for inspiration as she drops her bra to the little pile of their clothes growing in the corner. It's when she unbuttons her jeans that she sees the gold winking at her from his throat as he swallows. Not enough to make it sound. Just enough to remind her why this is so so necessary as she steps from her last barriers.

He doesn't trust his instincts.

Doesn't trust _himself,_ to not lose control and hurt her this way in an unguarded moment.

Sweeping eyes across the rigidly stiff limbs and flexing core, she decided to put him through his paces. Her intent expression getting a twitch of interest from his turgid length as his ear tips pink.

She prowls closer to trail fingers up his thighs, a teasing test of the hard muscles. He tenses under her hands, the smooth play of muscles under her touch making her eager to taste him. Chase the path with her tongue.

Reigning herself in when he shivers, collar ringing gently.

She meets his eyes and firms her touch. He settles.

Pleased, she kisses him quickly, before mouthing at his chin. Licking down to where the leather stretches over him. She tucks her tongue under the edge to check the grip, his taste zinging through her when she strokes it to lap his Adams apple.

His breath hitches before he relaxes into her mouth. Head easing back to give her more room. She settles her hands flat across his thighs to give her better leverage as she nuzzles his throat, Easing down his chest with kisses that end in the sting of her teeth.

It's too fast, he has to reset his grip to keep from teaching for her.

Huffing at her own impatience as she resets herself, stepping back and touching fingers to his knees.

She makes herself meet his eyes, wordlessly apologetic for rushing so quickly. He blinks slowly and she vows to take it slow. When she kisses him this time he strokes her tongue with his. Pleased, she settles in his lap. Keeping a careful distance from the apex of his thighs. He ripples regardless, but doesn't ring.

Repeating the tug of teeth over his collar and curling fingers into his shoulders, stroking the thickly corded slopes and easing closer, he ducks his head enough to meet her mouth. She doesn't know how he moves so silently, given. But loves the taste of him as she flicks against his slightly roucher slick.

She's aware of her own arousal in a way she's never been before, thrumming beneath her skin and seeping wetly down her thighs, but not the goal. She has a point to make, a bucket list of sorts to accomplish in this brief span where he's so fully at her tender mercy.

She so fully wants to show him tender.

Keeping this in mind she begins a sweeping sweet assault on his form. Gliding hands stroke his sides, teeth scraping his collar bones like he always does to her. Pleased at the fine shiver.

Caine sighs into her hair when she kisses his pecs. Mouthing his shoulders makes him tremble, head swiveling to keep her gaze. He's working his jaw by the time she's slid to floor, tracing the flush spreading down his chest with the softest of kisses.

Hips shifting subtly when trailing fingers brush just under his ribs. Breath shuddering out strangely. It takes her a second to realize he's ticklish here. Smiling at him when his lips twist, seemingly unsure how to handle the discovery. She files it away for later, pecking his lips quickly and resuming.

She's tried so hard to ease him into this. To relax enough to let her explore. Taking a minute to rest her head on his spread thigh, eyes closed, just breathing.

Her smooth exhales fraying his control as they wrap around his bare erection.

Her eyes snap open at his voice.

"Please, Majesty, _Jupiter_ , I-"

Flicking a glance to his face through his lashes, she debates as he struggles to find words. She turns her head minutely closer to his cock, still looking in his eyes. It bobs, hard, to tap her chin. He flushes, screwing his eyes shut tight, when the shudder rings out.

She's smiling gently as she resets this time.

 

Making the same path with her mouth and hands, careful to avoid the ticklish patch spanning his lower ribs. This time the twitch lands him on her tongue. His buck sliding him deeper in her mouth, salty musk and clean skin tantalizing her palate.

She's tempted to ignore the immediate ring but resets, again, and is rewarded for her patience with an almost feral kiss. He locks himself down when she begins.

This time she trails her mouth to his thighs, licking the arched lines trembling from his splayed stance. She pressed teeth to the tight muscle midway up his thigh. The swallowed whine bobbing his throat hard enough to nearly ring the bell.

Her fingers lift him from where he's pooling precum by his navel. The cooler fingers making him hiss a breath between clenched teeth.

He's watching closely, knowing now what she wants. Eyes flashing when she angles him to her mouth, puffing air over the sensitive tip to ask "Is this alright?"

His aborted growl rumbles through his chest hard enough to tremble his length to gloss her lip. The bell clinks on it's clasp, shifting, but doesn't ring.

"Yes, _please_. Just-" he flushes as his eyes darken before grimacing out a tight smile, baring fangs before finishing his thought. "be mindful of your teeth."

She's pleased enough not to take offense, realizing now that this is probably something he's never experienced if his stuttering resets are any indication, vowing to correct this gross oversight.

Going easy this first time, she opens her mouth wider to bracket the tip, letting him feel her heat, but not the wetness, until he pleads.

It's her turn to shiver, his voice licking up her spine, pooling low until she has to cup a breast to ease the ache, slowly tightening her mouth around his tip. Letting him acclimate by degrees, spanning fingers that don't quite touch around his base, controlling the angle.

Sampling the texture as his eyes glow with each slow swipe of her tongue. She moans at he sinks deeper with a hitching thrust, so, so careful to move no other limb. He's slick, warmer than she expects and oh, so, sensitive to every move she makes.

Settling into him, she twists her hand in counterpoint to her slow slides down his length. Taking more of him with every pass. 

When she takes him as deeply as she can, rolls her tongue against his tip and hums, his eyes roll back. The slow licks, like he's a melting ice cream cone, twirling around his pulsing flesh gets her the deep thrum that raises goosebumps over her in waves. 

She sucks him only once, the snarl he'd given as he'd jerked wetting her so powerfully she dripped, pooling slick as she shivered, waiting for the chimes to stop.

Trembling fingers touched his knee, his neck still cording strangely with the thrum she couldn't hear but feel. She was almost afraid to kiss him. To know what that vibration would feel like on his tongue. Trying not to want to feel it where the ache was worst. Her shifting hips searching friction as she debated how to get what she wanted most.

The tutting croon as the thrumming stopped bringing her back to him. 

Sliding into his lap, trapping his cock between them and twisting her hips to feel it shift against her holds. He worked his jaw, fighting the urge to test her skin with his teeth as she worked herself   
against him.

The hitching sobs brushing his ears drowning out everything but her scent until he felt the brush of knuckles against the heavy underside of his shaft. Glancing down only confirmed his suspicions as she rode her fingers and slicked his cock.

Cold shocking her as her back settled to the floor, she had no idea how he did it so quickly and still so gentle. the collar laid across her breast, tie snapped, and jingling with her shuddering breaths. Thighs bracketing his hips as he pushed against her, rubbing the firm ridge along her folds, tapping it against her clit.

He tugged her fingers from her, sucking them clean. Nudging her open as he carefully angled.

She couldn't breath through her want as he pressed into her for the first time. 

Eyes dilated to black pools, watched him as he opened her the way he wanted, splaying her legs wider to better accept his thickness. Shivering as her muscles caught his sensitive tip, the trembling clench too much like her fleeting kisses.

Rolling her hips to try and tempt him deeper, hissing in her breath at the orgasm teasing at the edges of her vision with the burning stretch. She tugged her hand back to rub her clit, pleading when he caught it again and pressed it to his chest.

"Caine, _please,_ I'm so- I want to-" He cut her off, angling his pelvis to brush where she wanted as he sank the first inch and thrummed.

The sudden vibration choking her as he ground himself deeper. Jupiter's hands flying to her hair, tugging as the sweeping chills flowed over her in waves. Hiccupping moans as he retreated to press a little deeper every time.

Torn between watching himself stutter past her lips, deeper with each wringing clench and watching her face flush as she bit her lip, shivering as he cupped a breast to suck the tip between his teeth.

His groaned "Your Majesty." wreaking havoc as she hitched her hips to take more and tried to breath past the pressure. Crying out when every pull for his lips was echoed with the pulse inside her as he intentionally twitched.

The ache curling tighter until he brushed something inside her that lit her body with flames, clamping down on his shaft, mindless to his twitching moan as the tight grasp locked him only a quarter way within her. The rhythmic pulls of her climax tearing his will to shreds.

She shrieked as he tore himself away with the last spasm, overwhelmed when he plunged three fingers in her pulsing sheath and scissored her open wider. The tongue he plunged to curl around his fingers mimicking the knot growing at his base, wringing a second orgasm from her before the end of the first.

Clutching his head, tugging his hair, oversensitive, thighs trembling when he slid the fourth finger in and stretched to match the thickness still slicked from her first orgasm. The pressure this side of painful but oh, just perfect as it forced his tongue from her core to lap her clit. 

By the time he let her go, she was boneless and sore, hoarse and panting weakly as he curled his arms under her and carried her to his room. 

It wasn't until she was tucked in his bed that she realized he hadn't come. The branding curve heating her where he rested on his side against her back. She slid a leg up to glide his heavy shaft against her, clenching her slick thighs tight around him, as arms banded around her waist.

The slow drags rubbed him against her lips, still tingling, oversensitive and she thought she couldn't come again but that this was close enough. His gentle biting kiss behind her ear, breathing through the strands to catch her scent, the whisps tickling across her breasts. She trailed a hand to cup the tip that slid against her and he thickened against the back of her thighs.

He instinctively sought her wet heat when he climaxed, shuddering against her as each pulse bathed her lips. The warm pulses wringing a final pulse from her core, as if in answer to the pleasure she'd brought him.

Ignoring the mess spreading between her thighs, she curled deeper in his arms and fell asleep.

 

Waking with her hair tangled in the bells of his wrists was not enough to kill the glow. 

 

Stinger shoving Kiza from the house to scrub the kitchen kinda did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a little too OOC for me there without something having prompted the reaction is Caine.
> 
> Just have no idea what that might be. 
> 
> And without it I'm not quite comfortable pursuing the imminent smut of this scene.
> 
> (Every time he twitches, the chimes ring. Every time they ring, she starts over.  
> It is a lesson he will learn with hitching hips and trembling tendons.  
> Not sure I like the p0rn. will rework it later.  
> She will always be safe with him. Even in this.)


	21. Napoleon (Not So) Complex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caine's pack grows ever larger, much to Jupiter's amusement.
> 
> Prompt 1. Part 3 of 3. Gah, I can't even...

Her watch dog thinks he can wait for her on the roof. It's starting to freak the neighbors out, and her too honestly.

She has no clue how he keeps getting up there. She sure as hell can't do it, and he's got easily 50lbs on her and, oh yeah, _no opposable thumbs._

Ganymede is actually a pretty chill dog, the name is a mouthful, but, god, her mom's face when Caine dropped that bomb was perfect. 

"The third largest moon of Jupiter." He'd looked at her like it was a gift just to be caught in her orbit when he'd said it too. 

It's actually Aunt Nino who thinks of the solution. 

The pent house princess who reminds Jupiter _far_ too much of a female Titus has had it with her latest fling and is, of course, dumping everything he ever touched off the balcony. 

It's only a quick catch from Jupiter that keeps the little Pomeranian from following. 

She's deeply unimpressed and simply takes the yappy thing with her when she's done. She takes the garishly glittering leash with matching food bowls stacked on her caddy as the blessing it is.

Gany spends the next few days cowering under the bed. 

The little poofy tyrant nothing but puppy love for Jupiter but snaps at Gany's heels if he so much as _looks_ at the window.

She can't help but wonder what Caine will make of the new addition.

When he comes through her window the next night, knowing her mother and aunt are at some astrology something or other, he's stopped cold by the snarling growl coming from her pillow. He barely has time to retreat before the fluff is launching towards the opening, barking hard enough it's feet keep recoiling off the ground.

Caine grimaces at the noise and uses two fingers to pluck it up by it's scruff, getting fingers nipped by sharp puppy teeth for his efforts. 

No matter how deeply he thrums the nuisance nips at his boots before finally peeing on him.

Jupiter rounds the corner to see what the hell the fuss is and finds the little lifted leg and Caine's remarkably nonplussed reaction. 

It's Ganymede who actually resolves the issue, worming his way out from beneath her mattress to sprawl at the little whack job's feet. His eyes still look to Caine but this time it seems more like commiseration.

Caine sighs deeply and stretches out on her bed. The aptly named Napoleon simply jumps up on his chest and wipes her feet. 

She still nips his fingers.


	22. Bitter Pill to Swallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stinger get's back from sorting through applicants at the Aegis to find that things have changed.

Stinger is still juggling sheaves for her Majesty's latest round of applications when he notices the difference in the melange of scents percolating with the morning coffee.

Jupiter is pregnant.

Well, this makes things complicated.

He sees the male curving into the young queens side, all solicitous affection as he eases food from his plate onto hers. A typical instinctual response to the growing life Stinger scents inside her. 

It's early, barely there and he wonders briefly if Caine knows the reasons for his sudden need to sacrifice his food. Internally debating stowing the Honor Guard selection, lycantants especially protective of pupped mates. It's Jupiter's cheery greating that scraps his plan to evade.

"Stinger! Welcome back! How was your trip?" He notices Caine using her distracion to flip a few more bites onto hers, scattering it carefully to blend in. He huffs a laugh under his breath.

_Foolish Pup._

Steering her back to her seat he scoops a jar of honey from the counter to drizzle on the dry toast. He's turning back for the cinnamon sugar mix when Kiza bounds down the stairs.

He freezes as the happy chatter swells with the addition, catching the quick hug his daughter gifts to the only other male for miles as she thanks them for the evening and swears to clean the sheets. The subtle shift in scent matches the queen for strength and tenor. It's the same.

Caine's nose makes at satisfying crunch when he decks him from the table, chair clattering to the floor loudly in the abrupt silence. He's just picking himself off the floor, gripping his nose when Stinger rounds on him again. Seeing his intent Caine rolls farther to the hallway, creeping closer to the door before rising, wide-eyed with hands splayed.

"I welcome you to my home, stay on this bloody backwater, and _this_ is how you thank me?" 

He stalks closer as the women race to their feet, landing a vicious blow that spins Caine through the door to land sprawled on the porch.

Jupiter's voice whipping through the entrance to lash at his back. "Stinger! What the hell?!"

Grunting out "You're pregnant, you both are." as he kicks the younger male where he lays.

Caine grabs his leg to his chest and yanks him to the ground before the words register. He looks at her with wide-eyed disbelief before they dim, shuttering, the weight of his station dragging down the tender hope he hadn't know he'd harbored. If she's pregnant, it isn't his. She's the queen, he will do his duty-

She's vibrant in her flush, mouth working before all but stomping her foot in outrage.

"It's called the Pill you jackass. What did you think I meant when I said I'd get her birth control, a rubber band for her knees?"

Stinger blanches at the reminder of his daughter's tentative inquiry and the relief of Jupiter's willingness to guide the girl.

"And you," Caine tenses at the finger aimed in his direction. "stop thinking whatever you're thinking, I can hear you selling yourself short from here. It's just Jupiter, just Caine. Nothing else. Deal with it."

It's when they amble back through the living room to finish breakfast that he sees what Kiza referred, the makeshift pillow fort still trickling popcorn from it's roof, butter and honey seeping into the weave.

Kiza's baleful glare shrinking his shoulders as he sits. Caine passing him a cup of coffee, tipping a dollop of honey to fill it to the brim. Her Majesty takes him in hand to check for bruising before bumping Stinger's shoulder with a wave as she forgives him as quickly as Caine does.

"So, you're not pregnant then?" If the long suffering sigh and eye roll is anything to go by, it's not the right response.

"No, Dad. Clearly I'll need to find a male who can take a punch first." He's not sure whether it's meant as censure as the amused tone filters through.

"If I can trust you'll come home from all this space business hale and hearty, can you trust me to date on my own terms, and stop jumping to the worst possible conclusions?"

"But-"

"You punched Caine because you thought he got me pregnant, you don't get to argue right now."

He looks at his daughter, really looks, and sees the young woman she's becoming. Brave and loyal, trusting but not naïve. It was the strength he saw shining back at him in her eyes, a glimmer of her mother, that nods his head.


	23. Cursed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 3: for shorinai  
> Jupiter will always be in danger.  
> He just never thought it'd be so close to home. 
> 
> She almost forgot he's space special forces.

Jupiter does not need this today.

She's been kidnapped and nearly killed by little grey men, gotten creepy incest-y vibes from people _not_ her children (who also wanted her dead) and gotten the heck outta Jupiter just in time to avoid being a space princess flambé.

Being held at gun point in her own home is not how she wanted to end her day.

Regretting not going with her mother when the rest of the family went to the picnic at the Apini's, opting to shower and take care of some personal grooming to better tempt her boyfriend into going past second base. This is what trying to do nice things gets you. Especially if the nice thing is really meant for you. 

_Karma, you heartless bitch, have you **seen** his ass? Cut me some slack, I'm only human._

Pleading with the forces of the universe hasn't helped her yet, and it changes nothing now.

She watches helpless and shaking with frustrated rage as they steal what little her family has of value; a few old cufflinks more tarnish than silver, the TV Vladie couldn't return, the silverware her grandmother had smuggled across the Atlantic in her coat, sleeping on tines and subtle serrations to pass her mother's gift to her own children when the time comes.

It's when they stuff the telescope in the sack on the ground, snapping the delicate scope, that it really clicks for her. This is happening and all she can do is drip wetly on the carpet and try not to let them see her shudder in disgust when the little one leers at her through his ski mask.

Caine is going to get the hell over her learning how to defend herself because she is so unbelievably sick of this shit.

She lets them tie her to the chair in the basement, gagged and feeling sick when the little one spends too much time tying her hands together and lashing them between her legs. The fact that Caine finds her about thirty minutes after, concerned when she'd been late, does little to help the shaking fury.

She calls her mother, Aunt Nino crying out their family's curse in the background. Keeps it together when the police come to question her, bundling herself in layers to try and keep herself from vibrating out of her skin.

Caine silently holds up the far corner as she answers questions, something about his demeanor preventing the detective from shooing him away. He stays in sight and watches her responses carefully, expression shuttered.

It doesn't take long for the cop to decide she's an immigrant, she must be lying, why would she have anything so precious as what she describes, before she's fed up with the whole process. Stomping off to the computer in the corner to print copies of receipts before realizing it isn't there anymore.

She isn't going to cry.

Her near disaster of a marriage, being beaten with a pipe by a stranger who looked with longing at her face, pleading for her family, for her world: she didn't cry for any of it. Too surreal for it to settle in her bones, the pain, the _danger_ never quite clicking in her brain because, really, who the hell does that even happen to.

Her mother is tugging her in her arms, desperately checking her for injuries, haunted by the nightmare of what was before and nearly was again, before she realizes her cheeks are wet. She finishes her interview with the police while Aleksa holds her hand.

The bastard says they'll have to report them to INS if they want to file the claim. She wants to slap him so hard she clenches her knuckles white to keep from reaching across the table.

_I'm a queen of assholes. I saved your miserable life and you won't even remember my name when you walk out my door. To you, I'm just more paperwork._

If she could have screamed her title from the roof and had anyone believe her, in that moment, she would have.

 

When the dust settles her family crushes close, taking stock and shuffling to blur the gaps in their home. 

Caine stays at the fringes until she reaches for him. He's too stiff and she's too drained to wipe away his tension too, so she leans into his chest and asks that he hold her. The faint pleasure lulling her to sleep until her mother asks him to carry her to bed. Aleksa crawls in beside her and they hold each other. Her mother lost in memories but, oh, so glad to see her daughter safe, that the will to live had superseded her need for the stars.

Caine takes a single pass to check for any further intruders, memorizing scents that don't belong. He stills abruptly as the tang of male arousal filters through at the entrance to the bathroom. Grits his teeth at her omission and resumes the circuit. It takes him all of three days to do what the detective opted not to do. By the time they call back to see if she still wants to file, each and every item has been replaced with careful hands.

Safely ensconced at Stinger's she doesn't see.

She plays up the fearful immigrant to get him to keep the feds from looking to closely at her status, and doesn't see her boyfriend glowering at the tone in her voice, the tremble in her hands as she ends the call. It's only her taking his hand that keeps him from hunting the human down.

She goes home the next night, determined not to let the memory run her from her home. Everything is back in place, barely worse for wear. The shift of her family around Caine the only change, the respect new and pleasing even if she can only guess the source. She has to pull Vladie aside to get the story. 

He just nods a head at his back and says, "You said he's special forces, looks like they get shit done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorinai, your other prompts were percolating and then I saw _I wanna drown barefoot in your sweetness_ by goldenisation 
> 
> Seriously, it's everything you wanted and so much better than anything I could hope to do.
> 
> I'll still get to it but I need to recover from that amazing version first.


	24. Avenging Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caine promised not to lay a hand on the man. And he has every intention of keeping his word.

It's the flickering of wings that couldn't possibly be there that does him in.

Detective Paulson knew all the signs of a psychotic break and he was NOT having one. He was being followed by an avenging angel. 

It started innocently at first, a dark shape on the horizon, circling his car. He'd snapped a picture, surprised to see a hawk that large within the city. It had legs. Like, large vaguely human looking legs. It was backlit and carrying prey. Obviously.

The tapping on his third story apartment must be kids with rocks and a grudge and too little supervision. The hand prints on the glass, visible every morning dew, they were clearly his own. That they were larger and impossible to clean from _inside_ the apartment was just.... He didn't know. But he was not about to risk his badge for something so silly.

The skylight in the Captain's office just happened to have a nest next to it that maintenance couldn't find. The wingspan must be magnified by the glass. Nothing that flew cast a shadow that large. He'd googled it.

The feather on his windshield was easily 18 inches, lab tests inconclusive. If he's clutched his St. Michaels as he read the results again, it meant nothing. Just an especially large Canadian goose. With a vaguely metallic sheen.

There were shoe treads on his bedroom ceiling. Right over his pillow. That was new. They were no where else in the apartment. No forced entry, and he'd been _asleep_ when they'd appeared. He didn't want to think about the fact he'd dreamed of flashing eyes and teeth.

It wasn't until he called a Ms. Jones that he made the connection. The sudden impact of boots on his cruiser clearing up any further doubts he may have still harbored that the Russian weilded the wrath of God. The shuddering on his skin and quivering coffee when the Angel spread his wings to arc over the sides of both doors, blocking the windows and creating enough drag to _change lanes_ isn't enough for his partner to believe him, well, he needs a new partner. Or career path.

His mother always wanted him to join the clergy. It's too bad his guardian angel thinks he's a dick.


	25. 48 hour preview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 48 Hour Preview.  
> Pure smut.  
> WILL BE TAKEN DOWN IN 48 HOURS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A 48 hour preview to kick my ass back into finishing this chapter.  
> It's been a stressful few months and this is my first story, so I'm going to be That Girl and plead for some comments as encouragement to continue. 
> 
> This is coming down in 48 hours either way, but hopefully because I'll have the completed version to replace it. 
> 
> And, yes, I'm actively seeking constructive criticisms too. (on smut, I have no shame.)

He struck something inside her that arched her back against the sheets with a wail. The thickened base overfilling her and locking against the spot that stole her breath. The vicious pleasure rippling her skin, the tight peaks of her breasts rubbing his chest adding another layer to the fracturing crest rising within her.

She spun her leg from his grip and twisted it beneath her, his knot firmly lodged within, the swirling grind making her even more frantic to escape.

He fucked her through it as she keened, scrabbling for purchase on the bed when he simply caught her hips to hold her still. The new position allowing for even deeper penetration as every thrust splayed her knees wider against her chest. 

A warm palm curled around to press her back against the sweat slicked chest caging her in and tweak the hard points of her nipples, hot damp breath skimming her nape before sharp teeth clasped gently with a fractured rumble as he stilled. 

Jupiter shuddered beneath him, the weight and breadth impossible to fathom, the stretch, even in stillness, forcing the air from her lungs as her hips writhed, searching. Caine groaned against her skin, pressing deeper, and locked his palm just above her mons, thick fingers spread to pluck and scissor her clit. 

Heat, sharp and overpowering flooded through her limbs in waves as she pleaded in broken whimpers. Caine's hips snapped and she wailed, the tension turning to something, new and strange and oh she had to-couldn't-  
The force of her orgasm, the sudden gush of fluids and vicious spasm, actually forcing him from her body. Jupiter was blind to everything but the thrumming ache of fluttering emptiness before Caine filled her again.

He snarled, nearly mindless at the slick soaking his thighs and cock. Feeding himself back in to feel the strangling clenches.Pleased beyond all reason with the sudden expulsion from her heat if this was the reward.

Her shuddering gasps and twitching form slowly soothed as he covered her with his body, heat seeping through to soothe her from the shock.

He waited, trembling, until she laced their fingers together and nipped his thumb in a sloppy kiss before resuming a gentler pace.

Mindful of her clenched eyes the tracks of wet on her cheeks from her last orgasm. Being oh so careful to not push her past the fine line of overwrought and into pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback, anything helps.


	26. building up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting to (possibly) build up the pre to get to the viewing of the smut chapter. Very much work in progress.

It never seems to matter how long Caine is gone on missions, the moment he's headed back, she knows. (Keepers dropping presents at her door may or may not have something to do with it.) Sometimes it's an index card with blocky, almost pictographic font (as if her alphabet is meaningless and the words themselves have been memorized individually to be sketched out and repeated), a place or time and the heady rush of Caine initiating courting her.  
Sometimes it's a sheave with clearly highlighted controls (he knows her well) filled to bursting with nearly fully immersive holoscapes of skylines or cities or flora, strange but beautiful enough to catch the breath in her chest. In each one, Caine is just behind her when it starts, scuffed or blinking sleepily but always with the slow blink and small tender smile before he speaks, rumbling stories of the foreign worlds. Gifting little peaks into where he's been, the marvels he so clearly wants to share with her.

This time it's a stunning vista, dull grey hexagonal cliffs crumbling at her feet, a mercurial waterfall moving seemingly in slow motion to drop into the pool filling the horizon below. Smoothly rolling waves capture her completely as they glimmer and ebb in a darkly oiled metallic rainbow. The urge to breathe deep and stretch her arms to feel the stiff winds she can see peeling smaller bits off the edge to blow back at her feet is briefly disorienting. As amazing as this technology is it still lacks scent, taste and touch. A small iridescent pink _something_ whizzes past her ear as Caine greets her in the recording. Jupiter nearly turns before the massively tusked snout breaches the water, opening to show pale blue quivering nostrils and a vaguely elephantine articulation at the tip. Caine flicks another pink thing at it as he says something with _far_ too many vowels and a sharp click before feeding it more berries. It's not the first time he's shown her this particular world, she recognizes the variegated plum and rust plant life behind him. As striking as the herbivore climbing the sheer cliff with five three-fingered limbs is, it's the darkening bruise around his jaw that really snags her attention.

He isn't trying to hide it but he's clearly grimacing when he speaks, she's reaching for him and pixelating his jaw before curling her hands into fists around the sheave, tapping out the code to ping his comm button. The recording mutes but the Caine at her left still speaks. It's with a strange disconnect that she watches his lips move to form the words breathed into her ear as the call connects. Her Caine goes quiet after greeting her, the hologram chattering on in silence like a poorly dubbed film. 

"Is everything alright?"

She can clearly hear him shifting before he exhales low, it's not true evasion that drags this out, he still has trouble letting her fuss over injuries his former employers would spray away. 

"I'll be fine, training got a bit more involved than expected. The next crew they send you won't be retrofitted with outmoded tech."

He'd spent nearly an entire week grumbling darkly at the standard Droid guard provided for her. Jupiter found the midnight blue and sparkly plated gatling gunned machines pretty impressive in a vaguely stunned kind of way herself, as if she'd be cowed if the massive collection belonged to anyone else but knowing they were meant for her just made her want to run away (and maybe question who thought everything she owned needed to freaking glitter). Caine however seemed to take personal offense to the lot of them. 

Kiza made a game of it, seeing how many he'd have dismantled one way or another after every "training" session. Jupiter was just glad they were old enough models to lack any personification beyond the face plate. 

"Did they get you back this time?"

His scoff was answer enough.  
"Your Majesty might want to reconsider her selection process, unless given a specific command these ones were pretty useless. I actually managed to get a few to beat themselves to bits with their own arms."

She took a moment to look incredulously at the hologram. 

"Really? .... _ **Why?**_ "

"Anything that inept is a poorly disguised assassination attempt. Hopefully.-" _Yay..._ she thought darkly. "You couldn't technically request replacements while the courtesy guard was still serviceable."

"And how many guards did you leave me then?"

"Me, your Majesty."

She tried not to sound as amused by him as she was trickle into her voice. "Then you'd better hurry back, huh?"

His answering "Of course." sounded like he was smiling at her. She'd happily seal the requisition forms to order more defunct machinery for him to creatively massacre. He always came back damn near chipper.


	27. Caine and Kinship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a thought in the middle of trying to figure out how to finish the smut and it made me wonder why Caine is so stoic and twitchy and then so proud as freaking punch at the last moment when he flies off with Jupiter... And then this happened.
> 
> Name break down for lycantents from Caine's splicer. Names are not official until survivability is established with sale. Until then, it is a break down of rank and additional assessments. This will be relevant.  
> Packs are geared to groups of ten. Thirty pups mean three groups A, B, C. 
> 
> Pack C pack  
> Placement Alpha  
> Assessment Intelligent  
> Temperament Non-combative  
> Sale # Extraneous

DEBATABLE DUE TO FEELZZZ: WHY CAINE IS A RUNT: SPICE HISTORY.

 

Caine is an alpha in my headcannon. He's a little to good at being protective for me to not feel that way. BUT, he really doesn't seem to -lead- so much as get caught in Jupiter's wake and do his damnedest to make sure nothing crashes into her. He circles, guarding, the ONE time he tries to boss (Chicanery, "where's my family?", "it isn't safe." "I know, not your call.") and gets shut down for it, he immediately backs off. (my headcannon is this is why he needed the talk from Stinger to go get Jupe, because he's an alpha and saw/felt that as a rejection of his protection and HIM. -SO- Why is he so twitchy about this?

SAD THINGS IMMINENT

He was not always a runt. His littermates numbered just under thirty at birth. Too many mouths to feed, too many pieces of product to ship to one source. No point in breaking up a completed set.

This is not the first time this has happened. The Splicers have ways of resolving such issues.

It makes sense to have alternate Alphas (re: complete sets, just in case, accidents do happen) Caine isn't the biggest but his pigmentation doesn't make him a target in this group (that won't come until later) the odd one out is Aox (A pack, Omega, Fail) the ink haired runt who hides in his shadow at every opportunity. It's not a problem that Aox isn't part of Caine's pack tier, the only reason Aox isn't Cox (with his X of failure) is that he's the only omega in the whole litter. That and his own alpha doesn't seem to like him much. Aox is the only deviation in their litter, the only blemish on an otherwise spotless Splicing. Omegas aren't strictly necessary for a complete pack, not one's bred for combat, they're allowed to be a little off kilter and aggressive. The sheer size of their group is a little off putting and Caine knows how much farther they have to grow. He thinks he's eight the first time the Spicer puts them all in the Hollow, he doesn't know how long they stay there, only knows his own hunger for days on end in his corner, herding his small pack behind him to keep away from the more feral A pack picking off the weak. They all come out that time. Still fully 32 splices. Still 3 complete special order packs when only one is required. Still so many mouths to feed and eating more into their own profitability every day each one survives. Because every brother Caine has shares his hue. Except the runt. Aox the Expendable.

The next time the Splicer puts them in the Hallow Caine knows there is something wrong. It smells like stale blood and antiseptic, just like before, but the only animal scent with him are his kin. The doors lock, leaving them in darkness. 

It takes a few days before the hunger hits them all enough to turn.

A few days longer for his own C pack to tear through him to eat his whimpering shadow, cowering in the corner until the last. His beta drops bits of still warm meat into his mouth, after.

Caine doesn't eat. Stops speaking unless it's to bark an order at his dwindling pack as his own family tears itself apart around him.

By the time it's over only 17 remain. Caine's beta ripping one final chunk from his own Alphas shoulder, lost to hunger and frenzy, by the time the Hollow doors open. Their Splicer looks pleased for the first time in Caine's memory. Right before he shoots Caine's beta in the head.

He doesn't remember much after that.

He has his final growth spurt before his pack is absorbed by A and B to replace all those they ate. He can't find it in himself to care.

It isn't until his Splicer finds him limping back to the Hollow corner still streaked with filth and only strands of dark hair that he feels much of anything really.

It's only after he's essentially immersed in the bastardized ReGen-X, still screaming from the sting of ligaments stretching to full the voids within the flesh of his once meaty thighs that they dig out the tooth from his shoulder. It smells like Aox. He leaves the infirmary still bleeding from the minor ordeal of it's removal.

That's not the only scar they let him keep. It _is_ the only one that drops his value.


	28. Caine is Bad with New People

The staccato knocking on Jupiter’s first Saturday off in three weeks is not appreciated. That it’s at 5 am sharp isn’t winning them any favors, even if she is expecting company, punctuality be damned.

 

Not awake enough to deal with two immaculate women when she’s still got fuzzy polar bear sleep pants on, drool still fresh on her face. Blinking at the by now familiar Aegis uniform, she peers more closely at the new Splices standing at parade rest on her family’s porch. They’re both female, one a blonde, that perfect mix of pouty and sleek enough to raise her hackles, the shorter curvy brunette’s sheepish expression the only thing keeping her from slamming the door in their faces.

 

“Majesty, I am called Culler, commander of your courtesy Honor Guard.” the lighter of the pair promptly shoves a sheave practically under her nose, forcing her to take it before somehow gesturing with a shoulder to the female to her left. “This is my second, Hopper. She will be residing with you for your security until such time as we are able to find suitably secure lodgings for you.”

 

“Wait, what-No, nobody is ‘residing’ with me,” she shuts the door behind her with a click, stepping onto the small patio to face off with the pushy alien “look, Color, my family has no idea and I intend to keep it that way. No offense, Hopper.”

 

Hopper is cringing behind her commander when the blonde narrows her eyes at the queen. 

 

“It’s Culler. As in to pick, take, glean. Not a pigment. The male watching from the upper window is recording, Majesty. Perhaps you should allow us to change venues.”

 

Jupiter whirls to see Vladie gawking through the curtains at them, phone out and trained on her face. She glares at him, making swiping motions with her hands as though to shove him away through the glass. Waiting until she hears the telltale ping and the curtain to drop back in place before turning back.

 

“Riiiight, pretty sure Caine would be pissed if I ran off with strange Splices again. You want to talk to me about my Honor Guard and Legion protocols or whatever, you can explain it in front of him. He’ll tell me if you’re lying or not.” She flicked a glance at Culler, the intense scrutiny firming her resolve to have Caine’s feedback when the female shifted into a disturbing stillness. “You better not be lying to me, if you are, I suggest you leave. Now.”

 

It’s like she portaled him to her side, how quickly he’s just there, practically pinning the blonde to her door and growling as he crowds the female in.

 

“Lycantant.” The word is snarled out between clenched teeth, hand gripping the wrist hovering over her throat. Jupiter isn’t clear on how she’s managed to turn fast enough to face him.

 

“Mantid.” His forearm is straining to close the distance between them, fingers flexing to scratch the skin as he presses closer.

 

A chirping “Hi, Caine! Long time no see, funny, you still jumping to the rescue like this.” freezes him, turning slightly to the almost forgotten brunette in the last corner of the patio. Caine mouths her name, stunned, before smiling. 

 

“Hopper.” There’s an obvious decrease in pressure from both parties as he reassesses the two. “She with you?”

 

The bobbed head has them releasing each other and stepping back.

 

“New Commander, after Stinger…. They reshuffled everyone. She’s a mantid but not quite as cutthroat as they normally are. She volunteered when we found out you were here.”

 

Wordlessly Jupiter hands him the sheave to sort through. He barely glances at the familiar emblem before pinning the blonde with a glare. 

 

“Legion assigning mantids to Entitleds now? Thought that was just for solo assassinations.”

 

The flash of faceted gold eyes the only sign the dig hits it’s mark.

 

“For a guard dog you seem to have a pronounced attachment to your mistress. Lip prints notwithstanding.” her eyes never move from his “You might want to tuck your wings, Soldier. We have company.”

 

By the time the words have left her mouth, he has done something that retracts his wings with a sharp click, and Aleksa is in the entryway. Glowering darkly at Caine and clearly waiting for an explanation for the rough treatment of the door and the woman next to it.

Jupiter does her best to salvage but even Hopper’s introduction does little to hide the tension between the taller couple. 

 

 

 

 

AMARA SNIPPET!!! SOMEBODY POKE WITH ME WITH SHARP STICKS TO KEEP GOING!!!

 

"You could order them ended a million ways for every star in your system," Amara says it with a wave as if this was plain, and given the speaker, it was easy to believe Amara inured to the horror show of the topic. "there is only one thing we are forbidden, little ally, only one thing we must never speak of and certainly never do."

Jupiter leaned in close as Amara dropped her voice to a sultry whisper, teasing the fine hairs behind her ear.

"For all your power, for all your _grace,_ " the word said with such a venomous hiss Jupiter physically recoiled. Amara reared back but was unable to smooth the expression fully from her face as she finishes her intended lesson. "the _one_ thing you cannot do, your Majesty, is save them."


End file.
